


Lockdown

by caballero78



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 21 year old louis, 23 year old Harry, Abuse, Angst, Angst and Humor, Bottom Louis, Cute Louis, Dark Harry, Dom Harry, Innocent Louis, It's freeform, M/M, Mentions of Cystic Fibrosis, Mentions of Suicide, Needs to be for the sake of fiction, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possible other respiratory illnesses, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychotropic Drugs, Rich Harry, Sassy Louis, Sexual Violence, Sub Louis, Things Get Heavy, Top Harry, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 93,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caballero78/pseuds/caballero78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making the move from the City to a small town should've been the best decision for Louis; urban to rural, busy to tranquil. Pursuing a Masters degree in Architectural Design, he'd secured an internship and needed to escape to somewhere smaller that will allow him to focus and build a life. However a local, elusive criminal turns all that on its head when he learns a bit more about the six foot something monster that lives on the hill.</p><p>
  <b>
    <i>A/N: If you want to avoid the death, read until the end of chapter 22. This is a perfect alternative ending.</i>
  </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

"I'm going out."

"But I thought you wanted to sta-"

“-had a sudden change of heart. I'm taking Spok, don't wait up." 

And with that Louis closed - definitely not slammed - the front door, letting Spok sprint ahead. 

He never strayed too far though. He was a well trained, intelligent dog with a personality more well suited to himself than his actual owner. Louis was a 5ft 9 (rounded up but that’s nobody’s business but his own) Northern thorough bred, well educated, dutifully witty equipped with sharp tongue but with a butter soft centre. Spok was a large, strong, protective and loyal thorough bred Rottweiler who just about chewed up anything that came within three feet of his master, but was a kitten at heart. The second Louis laid eyes on him in the shelter 2 years ago he just knew. It took a total of 14 minutes to choose him, sign the documents, get him in the car and Spok couldn't appear to be any happier about it himself practically lapping Louis’ face at any opportunity he had. Why he didn’t keep the animal for himself he doesn’t know.

They had taken a considerably longer walk than usual that night and Louis hadn't realised this until he reached the riverside. 

The water was surprisingly settled and was near enough black, with it’s surroundings taking an inky blue tone. Slightly deterred by the late hour, several strides into the night he considered turning back, the crisp evening air slapping his face as his speed grew downhill. However he couldn’t deny his need to catch some fresh air after staring at plans, blueprints and computer screens for 8 hours and 36 minutes all the while desperately trying to resist homicide.

Watching Spok play what seemed to be a one sided game of 'tag' with a piece of bark, he felt a dull ache creep up the nape of his neck. Sitting himself down carefully on the cleanest looking patch of frozen grass, he rubbed at it, rolling his head to right then the left trying to crack it gently.

A true city boy through and through, he soon became unaccustomed to the cold. Fingertips turning numb and the water from his eyes streaming steadily over with every yawn. It had nothing to do with the fact he had a singular t-shirt and sweater on as he was too stubborn to break the dramatic storm out effect he left in his wake to go back and grab his coat that was still hung dutifully on the rack mere feet from the door. 

Nope. Absolutely not. 

As much as he appreciated nature, he didn’t exactly hold a strong desire to be at one with it and it’s too late to be out this late on a Thursday anyway. This was Niall’s turn to walk the dog and yet look where he is. In the middle of god knows where. 

Interrupting his trail of thought, his gaze lands on a rather phallic shaped rock. Flashbacks of Niall sprung to mind, gleefully sprinting up to him, barely in the door, giggling about a rock face by the river that looked _‘seriously so much like a pair of tits, right there in front of me. The woman didn’t notice she was sitting right on the nipple, oh my god…’ _So yeah maybe he hadn’t trekked as far afield as he thought. But he knew this particular spot was at least 3 miles out from the house and that, at this hour - and temperature - was far enough.__

"Spok, no boy!" Snapping out of his daydream, he called after his animal who he'd spotted out of the corner of his eye running off further down stream, a bit too far out of sight, _“Spok!”_

After calling once more and whistling a couple of times to no avail, Louis sighed a little louder than necessary and pulled himself up to go see where he'd gotten to. 

With arms wrapped tightly around himself, his own breath fogging in front of him, he came to halt when he'd been walking for just over a minute and there was still no sign of him, mild panic setting in. This was unusual behaviour for one; he never wandered off like this and if he ever did he always responded to his call imminently. He beckoned for him several times, spanning up the uneven hillsides, squinting as the night sky had now fully birthed overhead making it difficult to see very far. Reaching for his phone he flicked on the flash and held it out and up slightly to aid. After a few wiggles of the appliance, a little in hope this may grab the attention of his pet, to his relief after a few seconds he heard two sharp barks directly ahead of him.

"Ah you little shit" Louis’ voice was croaky and he cleared his throat before calling out for him again.

Two more barks.

"Spok, here boy!”

Three more barks.

Okay. 

Head cocked to the side a little he frowned at this evolution. It was clear Spok was calling him instead of the other way around, so in true role reversal, Louis followed his ears until he caught a pair of eyes staring back at him, reflecting in the artificial light. It wasn’t until he was a few steps before the familiar sight of a tail wagging that he adopted a light jog to get to him quicker, bending down to run his hand over his back and behind his ears mumbling out a few words of affection.

But something was out of place. No affection was returned and the tail wagging had stopped. He was yapping at something up hill, barking a couple of times in that direction then turning back to Louis, repeating this a couple of times before Louis caught on and thought to shine the light over there.

After surveying the stretch of grass and basic nothingness before them, he resigned. Nothing. 

“I think fatigue is kicking both our asses tonight little man, come on.” 

Turning to walk back along the bank he beckoned for him to follow but he didn’t. Even after yet another two whistles, he was stuck to the spot. Looking in the same direction, barking the same pattern only now there were a few whines thrown in probably to try and get his attention.

“What has gotten into you tonight?” Louis was caught between a laugh and a groan as he took two strides towards his dog and bent down to his eye level, squinting up into the black abyss that was now the top of the hill. Brows knotting, he side eyed his dog to make sure he was - and yep, he was definitely looking in the same direction. But just not at the same thing. 

“I’m going to humour you and presume you’re not playing stupid.” Louis’ squint deepened as he desperately tried adjusting to the distant dark, “You know, it’s times like these I wish animals could ta-”

It was barely even a sound. But that barely there sound wasn’t there before. And it shouldn’t be there. Not so close to him anyway.

Louis own eyes were now wide, gaze frozen in the black void that was before him. Ears pricked and all. Maybe he imagined it and it was all-

There it was again.

Narrowly avoiding whiplash, Louis’ head snapped to the side. It was definitely coming from up hill before, but that was absolutely coming from slightly more to the left this time and no it wasn’t his imagination because it sounded again and now he was stood. One couldn’t say it was an unusual sound for a late Thursday evening, on a riverbank, complete with phallic rock and all, however it was enough to spook Spok and that in turn was enough for Louis. 

With this knowledge, Louis doesn’t waste another second deliberating and grabs his dog by the collar heaving him a few steps before muttering to himself as he struggled with the resisting lump in tow.

“I swear to whatever force is more prevalent tonight, I will _kill _Niall… walk this animal in the middle of the _fucking winter, when I’m already ill, next to a _fucking lake or whatever the _fuck that _fucking thing is… out here catching my fucking death, hallucinating with a - ,” he cut himself short to turn around and plead with the dog who had now fully plonked down on it’s rear proving to be more durable than the little rubber band that was Louis’ temper.______

This was more than he was prepared to deal with right now. 

“Could you just please, for a second of your adolescent life-“

His breath hitched at the movement behind Spok. 

Okay no.  
_Nope _.  
All the no’s.__

In the distance, something had moved - or rather, _is _moving towards them at a considerable pace.__

Louis knew he should move, turn around and run. Flee until there was a Louis shaped hole in his front door. Screw the dog. He can lie, he’s an actor, this is what they do. The outline of whatever, whoever - who, definitely who - was coming towards them half masked by the darkness and he was still stood to the same damn spot working against every sane instinct in his body.

Spok was growling now and Louis’ grip was loosening due to the copious amount of sweat that had formed in the past twenty seconds, besides the cold trapping every other part of his body like a vice. Whatever it was kept a lightning speed by the sound of what must be feet hitting the frosted grass over and over, tiny crunches sounding more like mini avalanches with his heightened senses right now. 

So he did the only thing that made sense. He fled.

Louis wasn’t heartless. There was no way on earth, Spok would remain there after seeing his human friend take off at such speed, no matter what had been keeping him there up until this time. And sure enough, Spok soon took over up ahead, faint barks being smudged by the ice cold wind whipping past Louis’ ears as his legs carried him as fast as they could up and over the hill. Feet barely touching the ground, he didn’t stop for breath until he rounded the trees on his right and pelted down he public walkway, the sound of gravel crunching as he doubled over, resting his hands on his knees trying to calm the sensation of bleeding lungs. 

Sniffing furiously and heaving for breath through an obscenely dry mouth, he lightly noted Spok’s presence a few metres away, still barking furiously. The ground that he’d covered in this short space of time - besides causing an alarming cluster of white specks to appear in his vision - satisfied his ego. The reason as to why however, didn’t. But no one needed to know as it was probably nothing anyway. 

During what was an intermittence between a light jog and faster than he would admit walk back to the house, he decided that it was definitely something and he wasn’t imagining it because he’s not someone who spooks easily. Justifying this to no one but himself, listing his fears - or rather, lack of thank you very much - on one hand as he trudged up the steep hill, he stopped for a moment when the familiar low wall and rusted black gates leading onto the fields came into view. The sigh of relief was real. 

Not bothering to unhook the gate, he swung his legs, followed by his upper body and hot footed it through the garden gate, up the path and to the back door leaning slightly forward as he let Spok shuffle in before him.

“If anyone asks, tonight never happened.”

The hound merely snuffled in his response and trotted over to his bowl. 

 

*

 

It had been an awfully long day, putting designs from screen to actual real life modelling and Louis was one eye roll away from an aneurysm. 

“I don’t think it’s going to work with the sunlight hitting the back of the room like that,” gesturing with frantic hands, the slim male that stood in front of Louis went on, arms crossed tightly over his chest, careful to avoid Louis’ icy glare, “And I doubt that they’re going to want to make the room appear any shorter than it already is.”

“I understand your concern about the length, but what you have to remember is the middle wall is still an option to have knocked through,” _Like your head _was left unspoken, “and if that happens, which I’m almost certain our client was leaning towards, it would eliminate the illusion of a shorter room caused by that light.”__

For the first time something passed over his expression. There was a glimmer of recognition, a spark of light somewhere in the man’s eyes as Louis’ words had fallen onto his ears. Although it seemed it was deaf ears to which they’d fallen on as after a 3.6 second contemplation, he waved his hand dismissing what he’d heard.

“No, no we should stall them on that. It won’t look as good as they think, I’m almost certain about it.” Add ignorance to that list of reasons this man would be better off dead. 

He couldn’t have been more than three feet away from him when Louis was ripped out of the blood bath scene he was peacefully conducting in his mind, when the man looked at him expecting an answer.

Training his mouth into a thin line, complete with a subtle nod of his head he answered - it was a phrase he’d probably used eighteen times today -

“Yeahyou’reprobablyright.”

 

*

 

“Niall!”

The blonde haired, coconut scented, ensemble of sweats that was gripping Louis like a baby Koala, looked up through frosty blue eyes and smiled unaware of his captives tense state. 

“Yes mate?”

Managing to flip his keys into the bowl and awkwardly shoulder off one half of his coat, he swatted Niall on the back of his head with his folder.

“The door was unlocked, idiot.” Louis voice took a fond turn on the last word, still wrestling with the Irishman round his middle, “I’ve told you too many times about leaving the front door open.”

Batting this aside completely, Niall now loosened his hold to step back and frown at a flustered Louis, hair stuck up in disarray as he hung his coat up. 

“Your voice…”

After petting his fringe, the folder was hugged to his chest as he side eyed Niall humorously, edging round him to follow his nose. 

“Louis your voice is croaky.”

“Mhm, is that bolognese?”

Forgetting the folder and the pile of papers that spilled out of it, he set it on the side and got to poking about whatever substance was bubbling away on the cooker. 

“Mate, I told you to stay wrapped up, I told ya’, never mind me locking fucking doors, you need to lock up your immune system.”

“That,” the scent of tomato and garlic made his taste buds dance, “doesn’t make sense Ni.” 

Technically speaking it wasn’t Niall’s fault Louis stormed out two nights previous and technically Niall doesn’t accept blame for it anyway so that’s that. But he knows all too well that his immune system was unfairly weak and he was way too aware of this, often playing the big brother role around him regardless of Louis being the older of the two. The last time Louis got the flu, he stayed inside for a solid week, survived on nothing but soup and honey an lemon tea and every time he coughed everyone was sure he was going to bring up an organ or two. 

Flashbacks of soup a semi conscious Louis and dirty tissues ran through his mind as he hastily reached out and grabbed Louis’s arms.

“Yeah well, go sit down, come on…”

As if Louis were made of thin glass, which wasn’t a far stretch from the truth at present moment, he gently guided him to the kitchen table and made sure he was sat comfortably before returning round the counter to tend to the cooker.

“You’re going to die from some cold related cause,” stirring the thick food in the pan he pointed a finger at Louis, “s’gonna be written on your tombstone _Death by cold _.”__

 

*

 

“Can’t wait to snapshot this baby.”

“You realise we’re not actually doing this?”

“Scarf.”

Louis whipped the object out of his hand.

“Niall.”

“Niall.”

“Niall, just so you know I hereby will not acknowledge you as my friend if you insist on going ahead with this, I’m talking on ‘officially dead to me’ terms,” He narrowed his gaze to come across as serious as he can, watching Niall disappear then reappear again from the front lounge door, “Also, this scarf looks ridiculous with what I’m wearing.”

Which, unlike his first comment was true. Black skinny jeans, vans and a grey hoodie really didn’t need a thick knit cream scarf to top it off. 

“Spok!” 

“Niall.”

“Okay good boy, all set,” Niall plucked the lead off the hook just incase and opened the door, shit eating grin on his face. 

“I am not going to sit and take a picture of a rock that looks like breasts. Least of all, with kids likely running around, with an Irishman that has a potty for a mouth.”

“A, mark me offended,” feeling the hot stare on the back of his head he made sure to lock the door before turning around and joining them down the driveway, “and B, that place is never busy.”

“It’s right off the side of a public walkway, can’t imagine it’ll be empty during the school holidays during an actual,” opening his arms to the heavens above, he sighed, “sunny day.” 

“Doesn’t matter, people avoid it.”

Louis sneezed, promptly followed by a supportive hand on his lower back and a concerned look as he shook away the shivers. Quickly patting away his hand he ensured Niall that he wasn’t about to internally combust from a singular sneeze, which was of course cue for another sneeze earning him a now disapproving look. He was fine. It’s a sunny day in early November, a rare delight at this time of year and he’s infested with some minor cold that made his skin feel as though it was constantly shifting and his head like it was stuffed with lead. But it’s fine. He’s fine. 

Coming to a stop before the gates, he fiddled with the scarf that was strewn recklessly round his neck. He’d been outside for three minutes and he was already done with the day. The blinding sun mixed with the frosty air was a wonderful contradicting cocktail served to simply make his body feel that little bit worse.

Refocusing as Niall mumbled to the disobedient lock, he remembered what they were talking about. Louis’ curiosity perked again, looking at Niall through squinted eyes.

“Uh, why?” 

Something broke. Whether it was the key, the latch itself or Niall’s temper it didn’t matter as the gate was now unlocked. 

“Why what?”

“Why is it never busy?”

“Just because.”

Snorting out a laugh at Niall’s obvious defiance to talk about it, he squeezed through the tiny gap between the iron gates. Neither of them bothering to open them further. But after a few weird seconds passed and he hadn’t continued, Louis’ tongue got the better of him.

“Well now you’ve started it and you obviously know why, you have to tell me. Jesus Niall, I nearly caught my death out there the other night and now you accepted you were an arse you owe me anything today, remember?”

“True that pal, true, which is why I’m buying you cupcakes after our photography session.”

“Niall.”

“Sorry, cupcakes and coffee. Fuck, you city boys are hung up on that stuff,”

“ _Niaaall _,” Louis actually whined. Child like and impatient. He hated not knowing. Whatever it was, even if it was something he shouldn’t know or wouldn’t benefit him in any which way, he had to be a beacon of knowledge to broaden his understandings.__

And he was a nosey infant that was overly stubborn and curious in equal amounts. 

“Okay, okay. But you’re not going to believe me, because I didn’t. Not when I first moved here,” Niall threw the ball as far as he could, watching Spok bound off after it, “reckoned it was just some local conspiracy thing, load of shite.”

Nodding, Louis kept his comment about Niall’s own ludicrous conspiracy theories to himself as he carried on.

“Basically, short version to save boring you to death, there’s a fella round here who sort of has a history of socially unacceptable, mostly illegal, all definitely violent… things. And nobody has seen him in public for pushing a year now.”

All attention on his companion, Louis listened on. Trusting his feet - and foolishly, the baby deer himself, Niall - to guide him right as his eyes were solely focused on him. 

“And…”

“And he lives just atop the hill, above the south end of the river. Huge place, real nice. 18th century build.” Niall clapped his hands together, bent down for Spok as he made his return complete with slobbering ball in mouth, “so of course people tend to avoid being within close proximity of his house.”

Louis nodded curtly, readjusting his scarf, “Naturally.”

“I mean sure it doesn’t stop folk walking around the area,” he gestured loosely between them, “like us o’ course. But the stories that have been told about him are enough to put most sane people off wanting to venture too close for too long. But it’s very sparse and completely unheard of at night.” Risking a glance in the direction of his feathery haired companion, he bit down a grin. 

Louis had missed the sarcastic dig however as his mind had wandered off track suddenly to a lady stood with a sandwich board hing over her shoulders reading ‘BUY ONE AND EAT FREE / EAT & GO WITH OUR HOT COCO’. 

“Um, Niall…,” a quick swat to his shoulder, “ _Niall! _”__

Louis whisper shouted at his friend who was amusing himself with the smaller delights of dogs floppy ears, “Niall, we should stop off for hot chocolate. I’m just trying to decide whether whoever designed that board is terrible at their job or genius as I’m not quite sure what it means but I’m intrigued. I think it’s implying free food.”

“Then we shall stop off for hot chocolate. Freebie me up bitch.” Split second decision made, he hooks the lead up to Spok’s collar and tugs him behind, already en route to the sandwich board lady.

“Tone down the language and you’re terrible by the way, so tight.”

“Student sodding wage Lewis!”

 

*

 

Swirling the remnants of his drink around the bottom of his cup, Louis keeps looking over his shoulder. And then the other one.  
Repeating this several times, checking no one is actually taking any real time notice of what is unfortunately happening right in front of his very sore eyes.

After two dramatic sighs in a bid to get Niall’s attention but failing, Louis throws back the last of the sweet substance in his cardboard cup and sets it down carefully before stuffing his hands into his hoody. He pads up to the boy, whose legs are stretched in what can only be described as a wholly unnatural position - and quite unnecessary if Louis might say - to their full capacity, a foot on two opposing rocks, torso twisted over.

Clearing his throat Louis rocked forward on his feet, checking over his shoulder for 68th time.

“Niall what the fuck are you doing.”

Niall, clearly not expecting this, nearly fell face first into the flowing water.

“Shit me up Tomlinson - didn’t see you there, I was in my zone.”

“Your z-” Louis gazed towards the sky in wonderment, “Niall you’re insane. Do you know that?”

“Maybe,” Aligning his body back to normal stature and hopping down onto the grass, he nodded considering this before giggling, rustling like an excited puppy up to Louis' side, “but look… look at that angle. Looks like-“

“-yeah that’s fantastic Niall. Really. I’ve never been so proud to be your friend.”

“But did you see how-“

“-I saw! And like I said, never a prouder moment. You utter catastrophe.”

Hurt flooding his expression, he locked his phone. 

“Are you signed up for organ donor?”

“And- am I what? What do-”

“If not you should, because clearly your heart has never been used.”

Louis’ face split into a full, open mouthed laugh that made his shoulders bob and him lean forward in genuine hysterics. Niall feigned offence and huffed, barely containing his own laughter as it rumbled in his chest.

“Okay that’s enough happiness for today,” Louis dabbed the sides of his eyes with the his sleeves, “and inanimate object inspired erotica, can we please leave?” Coughing out the last of his giggles, he shuddered, snaking his arms around himself as clearly the flu is at it’s peak out here and although that hot chocolate may have warmed his innards it was short lived and he was looking forward to Niall’s promised sugar onslaught of coffee and cupcakes. “Or do you want to complete the absurdity and take a trip uphill to that maniac’s house you were telling me about earlier? Which, by the way, you’re awfully care free about if he really is so notoriously wretched.”

The atmosphere went from featherweight to heavy in a matter of seconds. Barking sounded in the distance. Louis merely blinked and Spok’s ears had pricked, jaw set emitting a low unsteady growl, gaze fixed at a point on the horizon behind Louis. When Niall all but growled as he practically mirrored the hound’s actions, Louis’ neutral gaze turned weary and he looked over his shoulder to see what was the sudden emergency. 

He got his answer in the form of a single figure, some thirty metres or so away, walking - notably quickly - towards them. And that wasn’t negotiable. They weren’t walking in their general direction, towards the river or the edge of the woods, their line of path led straight to the trio’s position. 

“Louis.” 

Niall’s voice was hushed and small.

Louis dragged his eyes back towards Niall, but got distracted by Spok again who now had teeth bared and was squaring up on all fours next to Louis. His jaw was snapping at the ferocity he barked. 

“Louis…” He repeated it with more urgency, more seriousness. A tone unfamiliar on Niall, “Louis we need to go.”

“I-..”

Before he had chance to reply, the steady pit pat of crunching grass came to a heavy halt behind him and Niall’s face had dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture that inspired the opening was [this](https://40.media.tumblr.com/2aa64fd56bda435ff49055340b5ab55b/tumblr_inline_nzmt1tIzlj1sxt034_540.jpg) one. But more 2015 during [this ](http://45.media.tumblr.com/f650f2dfd7dcee3b8b9f0cba08b574db/tumblr_nyjs3jKm4C1t9yd5mo1_500.gif)period. And for [Louis](http://images.j-14.com/uploads/posts/image/17500/louis-tomlinson-stressed-phone-bills.jpg) the 2013 era is my baby, honestly [this](http://static.tumblr.com/ec803ad782eacff865ef0e3204b15a36/bfyoeeu/uffnr4wmi/tumblr_static_dd6nebvajg8wgogog80wggk88.gif) is the perfect Louis for my story. Of course you can imagine your own, but these are my visuals. :)


	2. 2

Initially the thing that hit him were his eyes. They looked liked they’d been struck by lightning and still held some electricity in the form of an acidic emerald mixed with a shady moss bleeding through the edges. Their hold was relenting on their token and as of right now, that was Louis. 

Subsequently was his height. Or just his size in general. It was hard to miss such a detail, especially from someone of Louis’ stature. Standing at a minimum of six feet, six one with correct posture perhaps. Team this with a pair of intimidating shoulders and hands that were adequately designed to crush small animals this man was most definitely not of a benign appearance. He could almost be lanky, with these long appendages if it weren’t for the muscle bulking his shape. 

A couple of odd seconds had passed where neither party did anything but stare. Well, if he’s being absolutely honest, Louis was the one staring. Quite unashamedly actually, at this man presented before him with his haphazardly rolled up shirt sleeves and what even is the point in buttons if you’re only going to use the last four? 

Not that Louis would file an official complaint.

“You left this.” 

An arm was outstretched, with something glinting in the light. Though Louis couldn’t quite bring his eyes to look downwards at what, however. 

He speaks. _As should I,_ Louis thinks. 

“I oh, I - that’s- what is it?” Louis mentally skins himself. 

The man surveyed him with a furrowed brow, eyes losing their solitude on his own for only a second to glance at the bright red lighter in his hand and back again, squinting now. 

Despite feeling stupidity in abundance, Louis didn’t break his faux dumbness to the horrifically obvious object in his hand. He had large hands and it concealed three quarters of it and that’s the excuse he shall stick to. And he’s still ill so. Excuses galore.

“Here.” Without warning the man threw it carelessly in Louis’ direction. 

Catching it mid air, surprising himself with his reflexes he nods at the lighter and gives a tight smile. 

“Uh, thanks man.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Realisation in it’s blood curdling form came colliding down on Louis at about the same time he noticed the dog that had jogged up alongside this stranger and his own dog started yapping furiously. It also struck him at the exact moment Niall decided to step forward and lightly touch his wrist, making him nearly do a back flip from the contact. 

With his hand still airborne, clutching the lighter so tight it became hot, he bore his eyes into the man before him who now had his back turned, stalking his way back up the hill with his black - Louis hadn’t cared to look properly to delegate a breed - dog alongside him, ignoring the infuriating yaps from Spok. 

Nothing about this man felt friendly or approachable or in any way normal. Yet once again, Louis’ tongue ran free.

“ _Hey wait!_ ” 

This time, Niall grappled his forearm yanking him backwards before furiously spitting in his ear,

“ _Louis Tomlinson have you completely lost it?!_ ”

Confused and still very poised to pursue this man up the hill who quite rudely, hadn’t responded to his call, he gave Niall a curious look.

“You know who that is right? That’s the _fucking guy_ , the guy I was telling you about, Louis, Louis _please_ \- I can’t-” Louis opened his mouth to protest but was shut down immediately, “-I don’t give a shit, whatever it is it isn’t important we just need to go, as of a few moments ago.”

“No Niall come on,” wriggling himself free he straightened his hoodie, whilst taking up his stride again and Holy mother of everything how fast can one person move, “how do you even know that?”

Not wanting his voice to carry such things in the wind, more specifically _up_ wind towards the disappearing man, he curses under his breath twice. Then thrice as he closes in on a power walking Louis. All hushed tones with frantic hand movements, he rushes out his sentences.

“Because I just know and I’ve been here long enough to know who he is and besides his face was in the paper Louis, his face, _that_ face.”

It wasn’t that he disbelieved his beloved friend, but he just wasn’t willing to accept something so horrendously outrageous, like this peculiar young man was a local psychopath living in solitude upon yonder. It all sounded too ‘bed time horror story’. 

“Okay fine, fine,” he swatted away the bustling blonde’s hands once more, “alright just let me, let me try and talk to him for a second okay?”

“But why Louis there’s literally nothing to say,”

“ _Because Niall oh my god._ ” Now it was Louis’ turn to rush out sentences, the mans’ strides were long and fast.

Niall cursed several more times, Louis wasn’t sure he’d even head of some of them, before stopping his ankle breaking speed and holding his hands up in defeat.

“Fine. _Harry_!”

His volume resembled a fog horn and Louis actually winced, but when the man on the hill stopped and peered over his shoulder, Louis’ temper spiked. 

So it had a name. And Niall knew it. And responded to it. But apparently, not to anything else.

 _Harry_. 

Harry turned fully on his heels now. The fingers on his right hand flexed a couple of times, not taking his eyes - which from this distance were nothing but black slits - off of Niall. Neither knew what they expected him to do, but they were on edge like it was a twisted game of Russian Roulette and whoever spoke next loses. So when Harry starts back down the hill, legs that were too long to be functional stomping their way back towards them, not one of them moved a joint. 

Harry stopped a few feet in front of them, his fingers now clenched into a loose fist. He raked his eyes painfully slow over Niall, head to toe and back again. “What?”

His voice was low. It was abrasive and throaty and did nothing to sooth his already unnerving presence. 

Louis’ tongue strikes again.

“Actually-”

Like he was trying to forget he was there or was in fact the last person on earth he wanted to see, Harry’s eyes closed slowly and when he opened them again it was with a slow turn of his head and an insolent look. Louis would be mildly offended at this obvious display of standoffish behaviour but his nerve isn’t stretched that much and he had his mind elsewhere.

“Um,” And if his head felt heavy before with the onset of his illness, it was long forgotten with the lightheadedness that came from those eyes trained on him. “It’s, he doesn’t - I just wanted to ask about-”

He was abruptly cut off with an small but definitely there head shake from the stranger before him, who was now once again looking at Niall with indignation plastered on his features.

Louis’ once mild offence was steadily rising to moderate. He couldn’t step a foot right in Harry’s eyes and he’d barely said a sentence. So flitting his eyes from Niall and daddy long legs - efficiently creating snappy, possibly abhorrent nicknames to people was a skill he'd honed but not something he’d be adding to his resume - he cleared his throat, praying it wouldn’t provoke a coughing fit and tried his luck again.

“I don’t want to annoy you or anything it’s just, the other night it was you wasn’t it? You saw me down here, you must’v-”

Louis’ voice had raised an octave while Harry’s hadn’t wavered from it’s slow rumble. 

“Niall,” The sated look on his face as he redirected his gaze to Niall spoke bounds, even if he didn’t, “take your friend and leave.”

Louis’ mouth was left open mid sentence and made a discernible snap when he shut it. He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth and swallowed hard. How can someone be this rude? He was unjustified, as far as Louis was concerned, in his manner and he couldn’t remember a time it had taken him to hate someone so fast before.

A couple of loaded seconds passed.

“I”m sorry have I upset you or s…”

Harry had the nerve to take one look at him before turning back and actually beginning to walk away again.

And okay. 

Alright then.

Offence fully loaded.

“Alright Sasquatch, listen up.” Although nothing audible came from him, the neck breaking speed in which Niall’s head turned to bore a molten stare that bled onto the left side of Louis’ face was punishing, “clearly I’m boring you senseless or you have more pressing matters at hand. Either way, I sincerely apologise for the inconvenience but could you find it somewhere in your cruelly packed schedule to pencil me in for a quick chat for say, I don’t know, two minutes?”

While Niall looked like he was planning how to kill Louis and what he wanted written on his own headstone, Louis didn’t falter his demeanour; keeping both eyes forward and firmly on the now _actually_ smirking barbarian. Maybe the hands propped on his hips were a touch too far. But his buttons were pressed and it had stopped Harry in his tracks as his body was half turned away but that dimple was aimed straight at him.

Within a second though, it was gone. And Harry did nothing but turn around and beckon his dog again as for the the third time, he carried on up the hill. 

Dumbfounded, all Louis could do was watch and hold his hands out in genuine disbelief but just before he was about to shout something that would plummet himself down several levels in terms of decorum Harry seemed to have a sixth sense as he shot him a perfectly situated glance over his shoulder and grumbled so lowly he almost missed it.

“You should quit.”

Letting go of the breath he’d taken, Louis frowned. Fish mouthing from Niall to Harry’s quickly diminishing posterior he brandished a hand. 

“What does that even mean?” Voice barely above a croaked whisper, he shook his head in utter and total shock. And confusion. Because what?

While the trio backtracked their way up to the public walkway Louis had become too familiar with over the past couple of days, he ignored Niall’s attempts at playing protective big brother, explaining why he should learn to clip his tone, his mind was swamped with none other than the obnoxious oaf they’d left behind.

He definitely, categorically did not like Harry. Whoever the hell that was.

 

*

 

It was Sunday evening. Outside, the skies were inky black and the snow was still falling steady as the clock on the end wall, behind Louis had just struck fifteen minutes past seven. 

He’d been staring at a blank document for around twenty minutes now, typing then deleting, then retyping the same few words rearranged in a different order every time. And now he’s here, drumming his fingers softly on the oak tabletop, feet tucked underneath himself as his mobile buzzed to life.

Mother.

Right on cue.

His eyes closed at the sight.

He softly shut his laptop and pinched the bridge of his nose, while he snaked his hand across the table blindly, eyes still closed, head bowed as he tapped the screen and brought it to his ear.

“Hi Mum.”

 

*

 

It wasn’t the greatest idea he’d had to drink away his woes. He loved his Mum dearly but he couldn’t deal with her constant whining, the guilt trips, the little crumbs of deviation that she dealt every time they spoke in a bid to get him to cave. It wasn’t news to him that she was unwilling to accept she was one of the main reasons behind his decision to relocate, but it doesn’t make it any easier to cope with every time she calls.

So of course, when Niall offered going out for a ‘few’ and also covertly announcing to the other three that drinks were on Louis as he _owed him one_ he jumped at the suggestion. 

Jumped is reaching. 

He merely raised his eyebrows pensively while it took him four seconds to decide if it was worth it on a Sunday night. Sunday’s were the day of rest. But since when was he religious? 

Niall’s idea of a few was clearly the opinion of the minority as it started off with three beers in their local, turning into a couple of rums when bellies were warm and jolly with alcohol. Then the rums transcended into two shots in a bar three streets down, followed by another glass of rum and coke and a clink of glasses full to the brim of an unnamed amber coloured liquid later he found himself gripping the bar that was crammed full of party goers, trying to steady his spinning vision.

Frowning at the counter top in front of him and at the empty glass that had been plonked on there by an anonymous arm to his left, he eyed the water pump on the flip side of the bar. But it was most definitely in his reach. His awareness of the how parched his mouth was becoming, post alcohol, grew as he contemplated just grabbing the thing.

“ _Mate!_ ” 

Only just registering the tap on his shoulders he turned around, one hand securing his balance on the edge of the wooden counter.

“Zayn! I thought we’d lost you to those red heads,” 

Dark eyes crinkling at the sides he shook his head, placing a cigarette between wet lips.

“Nah man, I have eyes for one and one only.” With a wink, he nodded his head towards the exit, “M’off for a smoke, stay here I’ll get a drink with you.”

Louis rolled his eyes and called after him weaving through the crowd.

“You should quit!”

He didn’t hear him but it doesn’t matter because the tiny segment of Louis’ brain that was sober did. And that made his blood thump a little harder. Soberness or something seared through his veins as recognition slam-dunked his senses.

_‘You should quit.’_

 

*

 

And this is why he found himself one quicker than it should’ve been taxi ride later, trudging through the thick snow at some minute to midnight, possibly a little more drunk than he’d care to admit and making a beeline for simply the most irrevocably horrid human he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. 

After two failed attempts at climbing the metal fencing and four times falling over the same raised curb nearly loosing an eye every time, he huffed out a defeated breath. Kicking snow about with his converse he dually noted how maybe he should invest in some more ‘weather sturdy’ footwear. Or maybe he enjoys the struggle. Or maybe he’s too stubborn. It’s anyone’s guess really. 

It was somewhere around the fifth attempt of climbing the right pillar that supported one of the [gates](https://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyvx8mWjb71r7kpfbo1_500.jpg) that he realised how absurd this was. Illogical actually. And quite frankly, up there in the top five stupid things he’d done in his adult life. If he was anything but inebriated, this would be the last thing on his current to-do list. However false sense of confidence in check and taking precedence over any sane reasoning he had he carried on.

If he hadn’t of turned at that precise moment, he would’ve missed it. He nearly fell over, despite being stationary, from the sight alone. Top far left corner, stood an outline of who he presumed was Harry peering out for a couple of seconds, before whipping the drape back again and blocking out the light emitted from inside. 

Inside. A nice, cozy interior with central heating and kettles and blankets and cushions and maybe even a log fire to curl up infant of. What he wouldn’t give to be inside, right now, with a cup of something warm, his greatest problem being what position he’ll move into next when his left butt cheek gets too numb from the position. But alas he’s out here. In the cold, with snow up to his shins. Outside the unnecessarily large for one person occupancy Styles residence, hoping to pick a fight that technically started over a lighter, with a certain twenty something who’s legs are too long and eyes are too pretty to be that angry. Which wait.

Operation ‘erase any inappropriate drunken thoughts and keep the current objective in mind’ was in full force.

The cold had worked it’s way into his senses and he finally found himself sober enough to put one foot and hand in front of the other as he navigated the side of the iron fencing once more and was actually successful in his venture. With an unsteady hold, he swung one leg over the top followed by the other. 

Feeling mentally and physically unstable and slightly nauseous he started on lowering himself, wedging his feet in-between the long bars for leverage and all was going well until one of them slipped and he plummeted three and half feet to the ground with a loud thud and crack. Something had broken and he wasn’t sure if it was his body, wasn’t sure if he cared. He’d thank the alcohol for that. The snow did little to nothing to cushion the blow but it could’ve been a lot worse without it.

“Shit, _ow_ -” wincing and hissing as he rolled over he soon found his left side to be particular painful, “ow, ow, ow, okay _ow_.” 

He rested for a second before he braved trying to push himself up. At least he was on the right side, step one complete. Regardless of the fact that there’s literally nothing that could be more embarrassing or more painful than this moment. 

“What are you doing?”

Then again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) 
> 
> Sorry for Zayn's brief introduction, he's more active in the next chapter(s).


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Craig is Evan Peters.

That voice hit him harder than the liquor. He shuffled a bit so he could push up on all fours, craning his neck to see a tousled haired, disgruntled looking Harry peering down on him. For the second time he was looking this boy in the eyes and for the second time he seemed to have the upper hand. 

“Breaking an-and entering…,” Louis did his upmost to keep back the hisses of pain when pulling himself up into a standing position all but elegantly. Flicking his fringe out of his eyes, he motioned with one hand on his hip, “obviously.”

The other party did nothing but stare through blown pupils and a creased brow. 

“I-,” Breathing was even tasking, “I wanted to talk to you.”

If it weren’t for his drunken haze, Louis may have dared to say the taller man’s lips twitched as his eyes travelled south. 

“Normal people knock.” The voice was so low and scratched it could almost be felt, hard to distinguish separate words from it’s monotonous rumble.

“Normal people are sans 20 foot metal gates and 537 foot long driveways to access the door to achieve the knock.” Louis went about dusting the snow off his sweater, inwardly cursing the way it’d already began soaking through, “Which brings me to my next point…” he went to step forward and around Harry but it was no good. He couldn’t stay upright without support for much longer; the pain in his left side was crippling him something terrible and so to avoid tumbling further he latched onto the first thing he could reach which under Satan’s law was Harry’s jumper.

The Earth’s rotation came to a screeching halt. Time stood still and all nerve endings relocated to that singular position on his chest. Harry froze.

“Alright you know what, I can’t- _fuck_ ,” It appeared being almost doubled over, not entirely bent but not stood straight either was the most ‘comfortable’ and so he tried to stabilise this position, fisting the thick knitted fabric with one hand while the other grasped his side, “think I cracked a rib or something.”

Harry’s hands automatically moved outwards with zero intention to support the smaller boy that had attached himself, but almost to show he _wasn’t_ touching him. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Louis saw this and lightly pushed his shoulder, still grappling a fistful of his jumper, “I’m not asking you to kitten lick it better, just a hand would be nice.”

Taking a couple of seconds to digest what what happening, Harry gulped down on the itch that was rising in the back of his throat. It wouldn’t be long until the little intruder had to leave, he just had to last that long. 

“You’re something else,” Louis, oblivious to his internal struggle remained slightly horizontal, “really.” 

Styling out a tumble after he decided to let go, he took a few well choreographed steps back from Harry, this alone exhausting him. “Could you please let me in on your little secret as to _why_ you hate me so much?”

Harry’s skin momentarily stirred from the loss of contact. He refocused his line of thought. 

“Apart from the fact you broke into my property.” 

“Oh don’t- _ah_ ,” the sudden surge of breath was too much and his rib twanged, “-give me that bullshit, you were a complete arse the other day as well.”

Harry glanced at his watch once then back at Louis, something heavy settling in his chest watching this clearly intoxicated boy try to stay upright. Depending on whether his surveillance cameras had caught Louis’ entrance and if he had calculated it accurately he had just over two minutes. Huffing out a long breath through his nose he ran a hand through his near shoulder length dark hair that was playing host to a few snowflakes. 

“Why are you here?” 

The distant lightbulb flickered back on in his mind.

“Because I am not a smoker, I don’t smoke and you,” Louis stumbled forward a few steps with an outstretched finger to prod his chest, “ _you_ Mr Styles, were wrong.” The smug grin was incapable of being concealed as it surfaced on Louis’ face, crinkling the corner of his eyes, “But I _have_ just smoked you, ha!”

“You’re drunk.”

Louis frowned, pretending to look pensive. “Uh well this just in, the sky is blue, water is wet and Captain obvious is still at large.” 

Humour was lost on Harry. Has been for quite some time. Maybe he should take him inside just for a moment, to keep him warm while the inevitable happens. Why did he even care if he was warm?

“Please don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.” 

And without any further explanation he snaked an arm around Louis waist, bending a little to compensate for the lack of inches he possessed, offering his torso and other hand to bare his full weight as he begun to guide Louis with ease up the driveway. 

“Oh my knight in shining armour.”

The eye roll was just second nature by now.

Louis chose to ignore how his hand seemed to disappear in Harry’s. He also definitely didn’t take any notice of how solid Harry’s arm felt around his back where it was bunching up his own sweatshirt exposing a panel of skin to the cold. 

“Actually,” He hiccupped softly, then hissed from the vibration as he tightened his grip on Harry’s, “you’re more like a knight in rusty tainted armour, aren’t you?” 

It wasn’t a question Harry wasn’t willing to entertain, baby blue’s eyeing him curiously, nor could he even if he wanted to as he looked over his shoulder at the set of headlights in the distance.

Once inside Louis blinked a couple of times until his eyes adjusted to the change in light. Escaping his saviour’s embrace, he leant against the nearest wall he could and instantly felt unworthy to be occupying even that. His architectural glasses were lodged firmly into place as he surveyed the grand surroundings. 

Where once a stone floor would’ve been placed, it had been altered and refurbished with solid cream marble. The most prominent thing asides from the imposing presence of a sparkling gothic chandelier hanging above their heads, was the imperial staircases. Two separate flights that curve around to join each other at the top which led up to the next floor. The foyer alone was probably the size of his and Niall’s entire flat. 

“Stay here.” Harry closed one of the large double doors not bothering to lock it.

Louis came back to earth remembering where he was and held a hand up in salute. 

“Y’sir.” 

Losing any sarcastic edge, he winced at the ever present sting in his side as he gripped it, feeling his way over to the nearest resting place.

Harry appeared to be almost hesitant for a moment, remaining silent, eyes trained on Louis’ slim waist. 

“You’re really strange you know.” Once he had made his way over and tentatively placed himself down on the second step of the staircase face momentarily screwed in agony, he looked back over to Harry’s position, “And obviously a terrible person.”

A jaw flex was the broodier of the pair’s only reply.

“And very rude.”

Harry let all five - and counting - insults that Louis had dished out tonight wash over him. One found it difficult to be offended by such naivety. It’s apparent this bite size of a person had no idea who Harry was and so all things considered his words were coming from that of an ignorant viewpoint. Soon something he would never have to deal with again as the screen that operated his security system beeped, alerting him that the gates had been opened and sure enough, the headlights that were once specs on the horizon now cast a cold blue light through the tall arched windows. The intrusion made Louis peer out curiously.

But by the time he’d looked back to continue his thus far one sided conversation, Harry was gone. 

“Okay that’s great, but maybe next time you can answer me instead of giving me an example!” 

Louis’ high pitched holler rang through the empty foyer, just before the door that was previously closed slowly opened to reveal a mountain of a man in an all black ensemble stepping through it, leaving Louis’ mouth hung open unsure of what he should do. A man had just walked straight into the house unannounced and Harry was nowhere to validate it.

“I uh, who are you?”

“Your chauffeur.” Smiling briefly he nodded, kind eyes a welcome contradiction to the stacked inked muscle he had for a body. He stood in the open doorway letting all the cool air in. Louis shivered. 

“I didn’t call,” He paused to glance to his right, “I don’t think Har-”

“Harry did the honours. Now if you could please.” 

The man stepped back to make his point, offering a hand out for Louis to take. So he did. After a final glance around the foyer, expecting Harry to suddenly reappear, he took it as promptly as he could with only half of his torso working properly and allowed himself to be guided back down the extensive driveway, past the water feature and up to the ambivalently parked SUV.

 

 

*

 

“ _You did what?!_ ” 

Niall had lost it. 

“Fucking hell, what is wrong with you? No I’m serious what is it that you lack that other people don’t?” 

The sound of Niall’s harsh voice was falling on sensitive ears this morning. Having just woken up from his painkiller induced slumber, his head felt separate to the rest of his body and he hadn’t even had so much as a whiff of caffeine yet.

“It’s really not a big deal.” Louis dug the heel of his hand into his eye socket. 

“You’re going to the hospital, look at that fucking bruise,” Niall was already punching his thumbs on his mobile, “…see if they’ll give you an MRI scan while we’re there too.”

While he lifted the phone to his ear, Louis took a few moments to steady his vision and weigh up his options. He needed to get up and off the sofa but with half of his body disabled, it wasn’t going to be the easiest. His only focus was getting off the couch without furthering crippling himself. He had just managed to snake his lower half onto the floor while his upper body was still resting chest down, when he overheard Niall’s clipped tone from the kitchen.

“-I don’t know but he can barely move from the sofa as it is so there’s definitely no way he can come in… yeah okay… mate you’re stellar, thanks so much… yeah course I will.”

Not two seconds later Niall came charging through the living room door, phone tucked into his back pocket looking furious at his pitiful state. 

“Niall, I”m fine I just need-”

Ignoring him he tried to help Louis move by trial and error. If he touched him somewhere and it hurt, he’d try a different hold. So far he’d got him to sit back on his heels which had Louis pushing out shallow breaths, hand clutching his side once more. 

“Help, that’s what you need,” He stopped Spok’s inquisitive fussing incase he pounced, “in more ways than one, now come on.” 

Well. At least he was off the couch.

 

 

*

 

“I had to do it.” Around eight packed files were slammed down onto the floor in their front lounge, followed by another six. “That’s the closest you’ll get to an apology.”

Louis had called Craig earlier from Niall’s phone. He’d gone behind his back to do it and had taken full advantage of Niall’s trusting nature when it comes to his phone, but no guilt was hindering him. He’d often spoken about his friend “Craig” who’s Dad was chief investigator with the local police force and so if he was going to get answers, Craig was the person to give them. Therefore earlier that morning, while Niall was busying himself with a pot of porridge, all it took was a hushed phone call and a white lie about Niall needing his assistance asap and he’d _‘explain later, just bring the files and come as soon as you can.’_

Fair to say when he arrived two hours later, backpack stocked with official police reports, newspaper articles and so forth, an expectant look on his face, Niall was more than baffled.

_‘If my Dad realises these have disappeared then I’m officially done for,’_

_‘If you weren’t such a close friend of Ni’s I would already be out of here. These are confidential so for whatever reason you want them, it stays in these four walls,’_

Okay so Louis felt a fragment of guilt. He hadn’t met this sandy haired boy before today and his way of introduction was pulling him here under false pretences that could end in a very severe punishment or worse, his own severe punishment if his Father found out he were the one after the information and why.

“Mate just, you’re too invested in this.” Niall was leant forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it too many times. “And I don’t understand why.”

“Because, Niall,” Louis began fanning the files out until it was aesthetically pleasing, “because I have two weeks off of work. Because I have nothing else really to do with my free time other than nosey in other people’s lives. Because I’ve been in his presence only twice and both times he said an average of six words to me. Because he’s an arrogant sod and the whole town hates him and nothing adds up and you’re not elaborating and I want to know why.”

“I’ve literally,” He held his hands out as if he were throttling a small goat, “told you everything you need to know.” 

“No you see, you’ve only told me he’s a criminal.”

“He _is_ a criminal.”

“Basics Niall. I need to know more… I have to know more.”

Gaze fixed on Louis, disbelief plastered on his face so harshly it was borderline humorous Niall all but blurted, 

“But… _why_?”

“Oh hush.” A hand was waved in his general direction. Louis had regretted telling Mother hen Niall about his little rendezvous with Harry three nights ago as he had triggered a series of lectures from Niall immediately after. Two hours, four minutes and two more Irish than coffees later they’d dissected every wrong move Louis had made ever - which Niall seemed to have catalogued in his brains’ filing cabinet - and the consequences thereafter concluding why Louis hasn’t yet learnt how to function as a lone adult. “You’ve been sitting on this gold mine of a story for just over a year and haven’t bothered to investigate it further, so someone has to.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to cease from saying the one thing that he’d been pushing to the back of his mind. So he opted for sarcasm instead. 

“Those people are called the police. Say it with me the.. _po... lice…_ ”

Louis stood up then. Now grey eyes regarding Niall cautiously. 

“I just remembered something that I've wanted to ask you. That day by the river, how did he know your na-,” 

Louis turned at the gentle tap on his shoulder, eyes flitting down to the steaming cup being handed to him by Craig. A slight blush tinted his cheeks under the circumstances, accepting the beverage, thanking him with a small smile.

“Um, where was I?”

“I don’t know,” Niall got up, pulling his t-shirt down, “but I need t’ piss.”

Louis digressed.

“Zayn?” 

The raven haired male who had made himself as small as possible on the far corner of the couch looked up through thick lashes innocently. A cigarette poised between his lips. He froze his finger on the lighters’ trigger caught mid act.

“Are you kidding me?” Louis transferred the mug into one hand and with the other swiftly removed the cigarette, “how many times do I have to tell you this is a smoke free household? Do I need to put up posters?” The cigarette was tossed into the plastic carrier bag hung on the door handle.

“Apparently fun free too.” Pocketing his zippo, he side eyed Craig who stifled a grin, plonking himself down on the couch next to him.

“If slowly killing yourself is your idea of fun…”

“Good job I’m in no hurry then.”

Louis glared. Louis, the personification of wit and sass, met his match the day Zayn, archetypal male of zealous and broodiness sauntered into his life last year. The psychology degree that was comfortably tucked under his belt didn’t help either. 

“For the twelfth time this week, quit.”

 

*

 

They were an hour and fifteen minutes in and the communal headache had Louis, Niall and Zayn sat rubbing their heads at different intervals as they watched on distractedly. Craig was perched on the edge of the table with his father’s files sprawled over the carpeted floor, leaving a small uncovered patch where he’d pace every so often until resigning back to his spot.

Louis had lost count on the amount of coffee he’d consumed in the last hour. The kettle had been constant background noise and he was yet to see the bottom of his mug. But if his bouncing leg and shaky fingers were anything to go by, it may be time to stop.

“ _Harry Edward Styles, 22, son of famous Anaesthesiologist turned private business owner Dr Des Styles and the late Criminal Law Attorney Anne Cox_ ,” Craig was on his feet again, “ _is being held in solitude since the early hours of yesterday morning post arrest for the alleged kidnapping and murder of ex forces Tony Callister, 31. It is believed Styles broke into the house of two different addresses before Callisters’, whose identity have been withheld, leaving nothing touched in his wake besides two young women who were found tied up unconscious, now fighting for their lives in St. Grahams Hospital…_ ”

“ _…Styles’ main victim Callister was found with several puncture wounds on his body and his neck artery severed. This style of decease is not unfamiliar to local authorities and ties in with previous murders committed earlier in the year…he is believed to be the main suspect and will be charged…_ blah blah blah… more details about his trial and arrest.”

All eyes were on Craig as he paced the area in front of the modest coffee table, stepping over Niall’s legs that were resting on it as he was too comfortable to move them. 

“Another one - _Styles is being treated as the main suspect in connection to the brutal murder on college boy, James Johnson, who was found in a pool of his own blood on Rigby Street in the late hours of Thursday night… forensics state he had been beat into submission with an unknown object along with other near fatal injuries to his lower abdomen and skull…_ um, _Johnson’s neck had been broken…_ Christ,” he huffed out a breath before continuing, "there is deliberation on Jack’s parents involvement with his Father’s businesses here too…”

Zayn plucked absentmindedly at the threads of the cushion he was using to rest is arms on atop his thighs when he had a thought. 

“So he has a fixation on necks.”

Three heads snapped in his direction at once. 

Clearing his throat, he continued.

“It’s right there in every killing or attack," He loosely motioned towards the document in Craig's possession, "their necks have been hurt in every one.”

Craig considered this, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. 

“You’re right. Other than a possible complex for necks and obvious violent tendencies, these don’t really tell us anything specific. These are all newspaper articles or forensic reports, that have squat on his background. He must keep private records separate.” 

Sighing as he started on a fresh folder, he shook his head, “… more things about his trial but nothing about his sentence - oh wait!”

Niall halted his sipping, cup covering half his face not daring to move incase he missed something. Craig followed his skimming finger as he read.

“ … it comes to light, on the April of 2014 that Harry has been _confined to house arrest, no access to the public, no unauthorised activity outside of a ‘to be determined’ square area around the Styles Manor home in Risborough._ Hm, these just filter off into reruns of his crimes, a confirmed seven with another estimated five that haven’t been charged officially. All loosely referencing only to fill out bits and pieces about his ongoing trial and the last…” pulling out a two pieces of paper clipped together at the back of the pile, he scanned them quickly, “… yeah. The last official report is dated December 10th, 2014. It’s about the protest rally that took place for Styles to be locked up instead of house arrest.” 

Pouting his lips in thought he offered them to Louis. “Here, look.” 

Louis had been sat absorbing all of this and had barely said a sentence in fear of vomit following. He took the paper and scoffed, running his eyes across the text. Niall was right all along. He was, to quote, ‘bad news’. 

Mind ablaze with the memory of his recent drunken acquaintance with Harry all this new information made his head spin. He was in the presence of a real life monster all that time and he didn’t have a clue. Okay, Niall briefly telling him hear say stories and saying he had his face in the paper for the crimes he committed should have had alarm bells ringing, but he took it as nothing more than exaggeration from a biased source. He thought it would’ve been a couple of semi violent crimes that he’d committed, if that. It’s a modestly sized town, word travels fast so even the smallest of crimes got blown up and the stories about him most likely became a big game of Chinese whispers.

Bottom line in Louis’ mind he was nothing more than an unjustly punished vigilante who turned arrogant and bitter and antisocial because of the lack of public acceptance.

But now he knew what he knew and he felt cold. 

“Yeah,” Niall coughed, interrupting his thoughts, “apparently the protest went on for a couple of months until the police were able to shut it down properly.”

“I remember,” Zayn looked to the window trying to piece together traces of information, “my Mum didn’t leave her house for the first couple of weeks when the news broke. Whole town came to a standstill. It was shit but Uni was cancelled for a week so that was-”

Okay.

“-Excellent Zayn.” Louis let his wrist fall limp between his legs, still holding the papers. He inclined his head towards him. “While the town was recovering from the two year rampage of a neck snapping, malevolent, psychopath that bathes in the blood of virgins, you were kicked back with a cigarette enjoying your most recent academic deferral that came as a result from it.” 

“Well…” Zayn slowly scanned the room as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “…I mean, yeah.”

An eruption of cackling laughter came from Niall, Craig shaking his head in a silent giggle. More from the look on Louis’ face than anything. 

The lighthearted interruption was needed, but the tension in the room was still too present. For Louis at least. He felt dirty, having had allowed pure evil to put their hands on him; to have entertained his company for longer than a minute.

“Unbelievable, honestly.” Although Louis, despite his disposition, couldn’t hold back a fond smirk. That was until Niall nearly spat out his drink for the second time and chirped up.

“Says the idiot who scaled his walls the other night!”

The jarring looks he received in the following point two of a second put his back up immediately. Cheers Niall. Craig however couldn’t be less amused. Being a local and having therefore experienced it from start to finish obviously jaded his opinion on anything remotely related to Harry. 

“What the _fuck_ , Louis?”

“Okay no that sounded worse than what is actually-”

“I don’t think there’s a way to buffer that mate.” Zayn, although more amused that Craig, was regarding him in disbelief. 

“- _In_ my defence I was -”

“Please, an attorney would even find you laughable.” 

“Look, I was -”

“High?”

“No I had - ”

“ _Concussion?!_ ”

Clucking his tongue he narrowed his eyes.

“No… I had a few drinks.”

“He was fucking _blitzed_.” Niall kindly informed the other two. “How do you think he got the bruised rib?”

“Well not everyone has the gift of an innate acceptance for alcohol Ni.”

Zayn’s mouth fell open. “You told me you’d fallen down your client’s steps! And that’s why work had insisted you take a month off to compensate but,” adopting his best Yorkshire accent he mockingly quoted, “ _because I didn’t want to cause a fuss I refused and said the two weeks will be fine like my doctor had advised._ ”

Niall had cracked, looking like a fountain of laughter with his head thrown back.

“The plot thickens.” Zayn’s light chorus of giggles came to a stop, “Wait don’t tell me this was the other night? When you disappeared from the bar?”

Louis embarrassingly couldn’t remember precisely what bar Zayn was referring to but vaguely remembers his presence at some point and there being a cigarette involved. So he went with it.

“Yes.”

“You abandoned me for _him_?”

“Okay enough.” Louis swooped his hands through the air with such force as if he were conducting the world’s worst orchestra. This niggled at his rib and he held back a wince. “At this point I was wholly unaware of the caliber of crimes he’d committed. I only knew what Niall had told me, which wasn’t a lot.”

“It was enough to keep anyone else, any body who’s brain didn’t short circuit so easily, away.”

“Look it doesn’t matter. I had an issue with him and I was drunk, I hold grudges, I was very drunk, I wanted to prove some stupid point but I’m only human and I was _very_ drunk.” 

Although he was expecting several more shots to be fired, acceptance fell on the other three boys. Obviously they knew he wouldn’t go within one hundred feet of him equipped with knowledge of his wrong doings, but it was fun to ruffle his oh-too-easily-ruffled feathers. 

“If you still want, I can try and get those private records for you?” Craig had set about collecting the files.

“I don’t- I don’t think I hold the same enthusiasm as before.” 

It was mostly true.

“Well whatever but in all seriousness, he’s poison. Stay away from him yeah?” Craig held out his hand for the article Louis was still gripping a little too tightly.

Scoffing as if this were a given, Louis nodded. 

“Yeah.” He turned over the paper, gaze falling upon the mugshot he hadn’t noticed until now. It was in black and white from photocopying but it didn’t take away the hostility of those eyes, staring a hole through him even in picture form. “Yeah, I will.”


	4. 4

“What,” Louis didn’t look up from his laptop screen, “are you doing Neil?”

Niall had been pottering around the kitchen, moving things unnecessarily for the last twenty minutes. He’d washed the dishes and put them to drain. Sorted the magnetic letters on the fridge into alphabetical order after announcing the word of the day is ‘flaneur’. He then made himself half a banana sandwich and starting picking at the ham and tomatoes, followed by rearranging the pan cupboard so they were actually in size order for the first time since they’d moved in. It was when he started facing all the tins forward that Louis knew something was up.

“Oh,” Shooting up at a too quick pace he popped his head above the countertop, “sorry mate is the noise too much?”

“The Niall is too much.”

Niall nodded and closed the cupboard door. Deciding against opening the fridge and staring at the lack of contents for the third time. He stood idly caught between what to do.

“Right.”

Nodding his head again absentmindedly he shoved his hands in his front pockets and a little too nonchalantly strode over to a keyboard tapping, feathery haired Louis. 

“So what you doing?”

“Work.”

“Hm, you should rest.”

“I’ve been resting Ni,” Louis finished his sentence with a harsh tap of a button, “for Twelve days.”

Niall took it upon himself to pull out the wooden chair he was hovering behind to sit on it, a knee tucked into his chest.

“Hm…”

Something in Louis snapped.

“What do you actually want?” 

Niall made a small popping sound with his mouth. 

“Your Mam called again this morning.”

“Oh for God sake,” Sitting back now arms braced on the table top, legs still crossed he tilted his head towards his friend, “You’ve been procrastinating for over twenty minutes to tell me something I already know?” 

“She misses you Lou, shouldn’t be so hard on her.”

He wasn’t prepared to have this conversation again.

“Niall.” He shot him a warning glare index finger held out for emphasis. “Don’t.” 

And as if he’d been holding it back for an entire season his following sentence burst through his lips.

“But Louis I don’t know why you can’t just tell me.”

Louis snapped the laptop shut. He’d been home for just under two weeks and has had to endure Niall mothering him constantly, hovering around his every move with all but a crash mat and a safety net just incase. It was too much. But now Niall had officially crossed the line and he was one hundred percent, utterly and thoroughly done.

“Okay Lou I’m sorry alright, I’m sorry,” He stood up so fast the half empty cup of tea, now turned cold, tipped and the contents spilt over the wooden table top.

“ _Shit_ -”

Luckily Louis had retrieved his laptop before the liquid had made it’s way over and placed it on safer grounds. Defusing his somewhat now tepid temper, he quickly reached for the tea towel hung over the cooker’s handle and threw it to Niall who was already wrestling with a roll of kitchen paper. 

“You’re an overbearing so and so sometimes you know that Niall?” 

He stared at Niall’s back, shoulders moving frantically to scrub away the mess.

“You’re never going to let this go are you?” Louis collected the empty mug and placed it on the draining board before leaning against the side, peering at his socked feet. 

“I will.” A mound of stained paper towels flew through the air before Louis and straight into the bin. “If that’s what you want me to do, I will.”

“I do.”

“Okay.”

“But I will say this.”

Louis kept silent.

“I care about you and as my best friend you signed up for this shit, you willingly accepted my intruding nature the second we teepee’d Grayson’s house.” He made his way round to the same side as Louis, “I know you’ve always had a rough time with your mam but and I just want to help.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“With the risk of sounding cliche, it’s a long story and I really don’t want to get into it right now.”

“Then when?”

“When…” Louis’ temper was too easy to spark recently, shooting Niall another pointed look reaching distractedly for the punnet of grapes behind him. “When I feel like I can talk about it.”

Niall rolled his eyes. Louis didn’t even know he _could_.

“Sorry I’m not free that day.” Popping a grape in his mouth he picked another one and aimed it straight for Niall’s forehead but missed and it bounced off his nose instead.

“Funny.” Louis spoke through mouthfuls. 

Niall retrieved the grape off of the floor and after blowing on it once threw it in his mouth earning a disgusted look from Louis. He clapped his hand on his shoulder, shortly rubbing a circle with it.

“I get it it’s fine I know you two don't see eye to eye and stuff, it’s fine. I just don't want you to be cold to her and then it's too late, what with my Mam and stuff I guess I just don't want to take anything for granted. What I'm trying to say is that you can tell me anything, I just want to make sure you know that.” He made a grand gesture with his hands, “ _Anything_ , you can tell the truth and you won’t be judged. I’m here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” Louis giggled through a small smile at the idiot and had just started on his fifth grape when it hit him. His throat nearly closing itself at the remembrance and he all but choked trying to hurry the swallowing. “Speaking of the truth and being able to tell each other _anything_ ,” Louis motioned quotation marks with his hands, still clutching the small punnet.

“I hadn’t thought about him in so long I’d almost forgotten, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about Harry.”

The mention of his name caused an involuntarily twitch of Niall’s lips. Something so small and unnoticeable that the rest of his cool demeanour smoothed over any sign of him being bothered at all. No one could tell his insides were curling in on themselves. 

“This again.”

“No, no it’s nothing about him… per se.” Louis had finished with his grapes and grabbed himself a milkshake from the fridge asking Niall if he wanted one in the process which he declined. “That day we - sorry the day I met him for the first time and you said his name and he responded? Well he said your name too and I’ve been wondering how?”

Niall looked around for something to do. Anything. 

“Did he?” 

Louis wiped away some of the thick strawberry residue on the back of his hand with a tiny inclination of his head.

“Yeah. Yeah he said your name and you didn’t bat an eye.”

It wasn’t something that had bypassed Niall. But it was definitely something Niall was hoping and praying it had Louis. Ever since he nearly broached the subject with him last week and he had to make the excuse of needing the toilet in a bid to get the subject firmly dropped, he’d been careful to avoid any further conversation on the boy himself or anything Harry related. But now he had made it painfully obvious by the look on his whitened face that something was out of joint, there was no way Louis was going to back down.

“Well?”

“Well yeah, obviously I er, I met him before.”

“Before.”

“Before yeah.”

“Before what?”

He’d overreached his arm to achieve the nonchalant lean he was going for on the door handle and just about braced himself against the door to stop from going face first into it. 

“Niall what-,” Louis instinctively stepped forward with quick hands coming to his aid, “What’s wrong with you?”

Louis wasn’t the Universe’s most intimidating character in rolled up navy sweatpants and a t-shirt that could adequately fit a 14 year old but when he wanted something there were very far and few in-between times he didn’t get it and with stormy grey eyes glaring into Niall’s, there was no way he could side step the truth.

“I met him through a friend of a friend.” Niall nodded, breath catching a little as he turned on his heels to march through to the front lounge area where Spok was snoozing softly in the armchair.

“Look who’s cliched now.”

“It’s true.” Niall whistled once, alerting the animal into consciousness. “When I moved here I got introduced to him through Alex, you remember Alex? Anyway it wasn’t a big deal Harry was alright, a little quiet but.”

“… _And_?”

“And what Lou?” By this time Spok had fully uncurled and awoken. The Rottweiler stalked up next to his owner when he saw his lead dangling by his side.

“And what about the fact he was going around committing all these crimes? What that just didn’t come up in conversation? Alex and co just liked to sweep it under the carpet? Was it merely a character flaw that everyone had just come to accept?”

“Louis.”

“ _Niall_.”

On the verge of something he swallowed it spinning on his heels in a fluid motion grabbing his coat from the hook in the foyer. 

“You can’t just- where are you going?”

“Spok needs a walk before it gets dark.”

As if he understood Spok started pawing at the front door, a gentle growl bubbling.

“Niall you are always the epitome of truth,” He put his hand on the glass panel of the door to stall his exit, condensation causing little droplets to fall from it’s position, “what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Whatever Louis I’m not putting up with-“

“You're a piss poor liar, is that why you choose to be so blunt?”

Niall looked like he wanted to say something but chose not to. After all Louis was actually very right.

“You know you gave me so much shit about innocently going to his house in a drunken stupor meanwhile you failed to mention the fact you were throwback besties.”

“Fuck sake Lou it was never like that.”

Louis held a hand up to silence him. This wasn’t the point he wanted to make.

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you led me to believe all this time that you know next to nothing about him and all the while-“

“-all the while what? Why do you care so much?” Niall was growing impatient and for someone who rarely raises his voice it stopped Louis dead. However his wavering voice was just another indicator that Harry was indeed a sensitive subject.

Why do you care so much.

Why did he care so much?

“I - I don’t know.” 

And that was definitely the truth.

He’d kept quiet about it because he thought the idea alone would send Niall over the edge. But these past couple of weeks had been strange. Louis wouldn’t waste his spit on Harry if he saw him burning alive, he categorised him as none other than scum and is definitely the only person it’s taken him less than a minute to take a distaste to. His instincts have always been good. But he couldn’t deny one thing to himself at most, something about that man or his situation or his demeanour or appearance or something had rather unfortunately stuck with him. It keeps coming back to him at odd hours. Those heavy eyes ricocheting around his thoughts at 4AM after waking up from dreams about too large hands squeezing out his last breath.

Louis gulped.

Eager to escape, Niall hooked the lead to Spok’s collar and sighed standing back up. Louis’ sudden silence made him feel weird, maybe a little guilty.

“Look, let’s drop it. If there was anything to say, I’d have said it by now.” Spok was gone.

Distracted by his own thoughts again, Louis gave in and watched him leave as he pulled up his hood to step through the front door himself and into the soft rain fall. 

Louis stood for a second after, staring at the door in his wake. One thing was certain and that was he despised Harry Styles. He hated his very existence just like everybody else and so badly wanted to chalk him down to a smudge in the history of the town. Harbouring even the smallest interest in that man was unhealthy by any means and it worked against the entirety of his intelligence anyway. 

So that was why, as he padded his was back into the kitchen, checking his phone to see a text from Niall that said he was going to Craig’s so don’t wait up, he decided that was it. Niall, his best friend Niall would never keep something this important from him and if there was anything he needed to know then deep down he knew he’d tell him. He felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t. Stupid and slightly annoyed that he’d allowed a psychotic 23 year old to doubt him.

He was going to forget about that human question mark. Whatever it was that had those thoughts finding their way back to him so often was now going to be forgotten, all he had to do was keep busy. Case closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not keen on this one, but meh. Next chapter coming very soon.


	5. 5

“So what are you saying?”

“I need to find three more and you’re going to help,” She hopped onto Louis’ desk and started swinging her legs, “This place is dead and quite frankly if I don’t venture further than that coffee machine soon, I will be too.”

“But if Steve comes back and we’re gone…” Louis shook his head.

“Steve schmeve, we’ve done the drafts, you kept up your side of the bargain and he’s with his Mother so that means he’ll be gone till four anyway.”

Louis squinted at the glint in her eye.

“No way, no” He said, retreating to the far side of the desk in his chair as if he feared contamination by the very idea, “I divorced mischief two weeks ago.”

“Well one hot steamy rendezvous isn’t the end of the world.”

“Geocaching sounds like something you’d get in a video game.”

“I didn’t know the difference between nintendo and playstation up until two years ago so that’s lost on me.” Annabelle tightened the elastic band in her hair, making her already messy ponytail even more mussed. “But it requires co-ordinates and maps, it’s very exciting and very up your street. You’ll like it.”

Louis took one look outside at the greying skies and the tree’s leaves bustling in the gail force winds.

“No I won’t.”

 

*

 

Louis didn’t recognise the deserted path they’d now strayed off. He’d definitely never passed that cyclist sign either and the old sweet shop they’d walked past ten minutes ago. The name however definitely rung a resounding bell. He was too busy thinking about the old peanut sweets that he remembered Zayn bringing in weeks ago and him saying they were from a place called the Lighthouse to also recognise the thick woods they were fast approaching up ahead. 

“If I’m correct and I think I am,” Annabelle was holding her phone up high to keep her signal. Technology definitely wasn’t her forte as she was the proud owner of an old samsung slide phone, “the second cache is either in or just the other side of these trees.”

Louis closed the note on his own iPhone reminding him to actually go inside that candy shop and looked up.

“Through the woods?”

She looked at her phone, then towards the trees and then Louis.

“Well, yeah looks like it,” With an overly chirpy tone and wide smile she beckoned her hand, “Come on Lou Lou,” and started picking up her pace towards the thick edge of the woods.

Thunder rumbled just as Louis took his first step to follow and he looked up, squinting because of the annoying wetness caused by the barely noticeable rain drops falling on his face. 

“Annabelle…”

“Don’t be a wimp Lou!” She hadn’t turned around to respond, knowing too well what he was thinking, instead carrying on charging forward.

“Okay first off,” Louis pulled his [jumper](http://media.tumblr.com/f6084cb65ce720e24dbf1dd8d555e9d8/tumblr_inline_mvryvkXSCU1qiiqs1.jpg) even further down his hands, jogging until he was next to her, “fuck you. And secondly, I'm still fragile so if this requires any uphill adventuring count me out.”

Annabelle giggled softly and nudged him, making dark strands of loose hair fall forward and her rosy cheeks even more tinged and plump. She shook her head and ducked to avoid a low branch. Louis did the same, but with a lot more ease as her heeled boots were proving to be not the wisest choice of footwear to go clambering through mud and bark and god knows whatever else.

They’d been silently navigating through the thickness for a couple of minutes when her phone beeped twice.

“Ah!” She regained her balance after stumbling slightly over a small concealed rock, “We are within range.”

“Uh..” Louis frowned down at something on the floor, “what do you mean?” 

However Annabelle didn’t hear him as she had gathered speed up ahead, flashes of her bright orange coat weaving in and out around the trunks. With the fear of being stranded he went to catch up with her again, which was becoming an actual thing now he noted, when he saw it again. 

Looking up to check he still had a visual on Annabelle he kicked away a few dead leaves on the ground to reveal what looked like wires. Upon closer inspection it was clear that it was several cables bound together that were running across the floor of the woods and right across their path. Picking them up he could see they ran too far either way for him to gage a start or end point. 

Strange as this was, Louis couldn’t afford the distraction because another clap of thunder came, reminding him exactly why he was here. He stood back upright and made his way swiftly forward, hopping sideways every so often to avoid branches or raised roots. 

The orange material flapping in the wind a few metres ahead of him through the trees was comforting, even if the colour wasn’t.

Somewhere along the way he’d lost his breath.

“Annabe-“ He stopped short when he was met with another pathway, instead this time the other side was lined with some 12 foot tall shrubs all which looked like they had some kind of shape someday but hadn’t been kept too well.

“I know this place.”

Louis nearly died when he felt a tickle on his face, images of Alien type bug flooding his mind. After nearly slapping his own ear off he was relieved to find it was a leaf. “I’m so glad one of us does.”

“Louis this is _fantastic_. If we’re where I think we are then this is just…,” she ran her hands along the shrubs delicately, careful to avoid any sharp twigs, “ I've always wanted the chance to get so close but what with everything it’s not exactly possible.” Louis couldn’t empathise with her excitement as he literally had no idea what she was talking about.

And before he had a chance to ask she was already walking along the path peering up at the wall of greenery until she came to a break in the form of a double arched black metal gate. The look on her face made Louis curious as she threw her arm out, pointing at something with her eyes nearly bulging out their sockets. “Look! I knew it!”

Following her line of vision Louis pressed himself to her side to peer through. It was definitely something to [behold](http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv83/LynniLove/gothicmansion-3.jpg), long gardens, with freshly mown grass contrasting to the greenery that framed it and green box edges providing an outline for what would probably be home to blooming flowers if it were a warmer season. The centre line beyond the maze like structures of the shrubs were dry stone walling and a bleak water feature which seemed to stick out like a sore thumb against it's extravagant backdrop, leading onto a long line of steps going up three levels until it reached the the back of what was obviously a typical gothic manor house.

Which no. Absolutely not.

“Where did you say this was again?”

As if Louis had grown a second head, Annabelle looked at him in confusion before she guffawed.

“As a fellow architect and colleague I’m appalled you don’t recognise this prestigious build.” She tutted and held her phone up to take a picture through the iron bars, “honestly Louis, shame on you.”

Although it was probably five degrees outside Louis’ skin pricked with heat.

“I didn’t exactly know there was access like this from the back though,” she continued appearing to look for something on the stone walls holding the gate, “it makes sense that you’d be able to get here from where we came but I’ve just never tried it before …”

Her ramblings went on but up and over Louis’ head as he was only concerned about one thing.

“There are more than one Manors in Ritsborough right?”

Satisfied with her picture she reopened the cache co-ordinates, barely glancing at Louis with disapproval.

“Louis is that a serious question?”

The force with which he grabbed her arm and got her to look him dead in the eyes was the only answer she needed.

“Annabelle.”

“This is the only manor house, country house in this or any nearby towns.” She regarded him with slight disbelief. Until it clicked. “Oh okay wait I know what you’re saying,” She waved her hand subsequently escaping Louis’ hold and went back to tapping away at the screen, “if it’s the Styles thing you’re worried about then don’t, he’s safely locked inside that place so.”

If Louis was still breathing he couldn’t feel it. 

“Let’s go. Now, I mean we’re going to leave right now.”

“Let’s not, we’re lined up with the second cache and it looks like it’s just beyond that third hedge with the red roses over there…” 

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, look.” She practically shoved her phone under his nose and Louis all but threw it back into the woods.

“No you idiot, you’re serious about going into the garden?”

Louis wanted to scream when she unhooked the gate. Why it was unlocked and so accessible to walking death wishes like Annabelle was one thing but the high pitched creak it made when opened was another and was something loud enough to make two birds that were previously sat on the shrubs above them to fly away.

“Oh come on what’s the worst that could happen?” She spoke in a hushed tone besides her defiance against her apparently non existence fear. 

Still stuck to the spot all he could do was watch on as a giddy looking Annabelle stepped through and bounced a little on the spot.

“I feel so _dangerous_ , I think this should be classed as an extreme sport.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’re the least dangerous out of the three of us.”

Annabelle turned around running her fingers along the top of the stone walls, “Three?”

“Yeah you know,” He couldn’t just stand and stare, “you, me and Harry _fucking_ Styles.”

“Oh he’s fascinating don’t you think?”

Louis pulled at his shirt collar before hugging himself as he trudged forward, his eyes plastered on the distant building to check they were safe. Which he could laugh at the thought.

“Fascinating? He’s a murderer Annie.”

“Yeah and I mean that’s terrible, of course,” She now seemed to follow her phone’s instructions as she spoke, holding it in front of her again, “but psychopaths, serial killers, whatever are always a good talking point. They all have traits and patterns in their behaviours and reasons as to why they are the way they are and stuff… you know what I mean?”

“Absolutely not.”

Thunder clapped again.

“Well.”

“No look, sorry but I don’t care care I’m not really interested to hear your theories behind-”

“Shh you turnip it’s not that. I didn’t locate it properly, it’s… readjusted.”

Louis had never felt so alive.

“Fantastic okay let’s go.”

“To there.”

Her finger pointed about 180 degrees away from where he hoped and straight to towards the house.

Louis ignored how the rain was hitting his skin harder by the second and was that lightening in his peripheral?

“This is me putting my foot firmly down.”

“How brave do you feel soldier?”

“No.”

“Fight or flight?”

“Shut up we’re leaving.”

“Adrenaline is my middle name after all.”

“ _Annabelle._ ”

She stood with her back to him, the rain making her long ponytail stick to the back of her coat now.

“You really think he’s in there?”

Louis felt his next sentence would determine her actions and furthermore his actions and further more his current heart beat and furthermore their survival rate. He had to raise his voice a little to compensate for the rain.

“I do and that means we should most definitely stay _out_ -“

Annabelle was already gone. Her child like giggles caught in the wind and danced past his ears as she ran up the centre line past the hedges and up the several flights of steps. 

 

*

 

It was no surprise to him that the upstairs was just as vast and maze-like as the downstairs. So he continued his mission by taking a sharp left down the first hallway. Trying to be quick about it, he scantly admired the artwork on the richly decorated walls as he ventured on, passing various rooms; several bedrooms that looked like they hadn’t been occupied in some time, two bathrooms, a couple of closed doors that he felt rude too open. Ignoring the voice in the back of his head that reminded him his presence here alone was already an intrusion. 

After already making three phone calls and two texts with no reply, he was left with nothing else but his own common sense. The fastest way to do this would be to call out but to make himself known to her would possibly make himself known to the other person too. So discretion was his best friend and it was a good thing he was small enough to not be too obtrusive. What he lacked in strength he made up for in agility.

He hot footed it down the second hallway but backtracked to a door when he saw it was wide open. He could see it was a bedroom with dark brocade wall paper that looked big enough to house a small family, with an extravagant king size four poster [bed](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6f/a0/34/6fa03407b503c72e76c55380639d0be4.jpg) smack bang in the middle, black curtains loosely framing this monstrous ornament. 

The sheets were dark grey and crumpled. Recently used. 

“Harry’s.” Louis whispered to himself. 

A shuffle type noise to his left made Louis snap his head to look. 

No sign of life was there, but he was almost sure he heard something and it could only be coming from the singular door in that area. A door he obviously missed earlier, with a flight of stone stairs ten steps high that had it's own little landing area. It was also cracked open but no light coming from inside.

He waited for a moment or two to see if anything else happened. Time really wasn’t on his side. But neither, it appeared, was any higher brain power as curiosity took precedence and he climbed the stairs coming to a halt when he was met with an array of locks on the door. Instead of the regular hollow wood, it was solid, plain, heavy, and there was a key hole fitted just below the handle and at the top, along with three ten inch bolts spread evenly down the door. 

Mumbling a speedy fuck it, under his breath he opened the door and was hit with a distinctive smell. It wasn't bad, it was incredibly similar to that of a brand new car or shed all fresh plastic and wood and metal. 

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, there were two large windows that framed what looked like a sizeable bed. Louis felt around the wall for a light switch, but nothing. Fishing out his phone, he used the flashlight only to discover that there wasn't one. Slowly walking around the room he discovered a chest of drawers - empty - a walk in wardrobe with no clothes in it, and a cabinet with a couple of books but they were clearly unused as they had accumulated a layer of dust. 

After investigating either sides of the room and it's various storage boxes, he came to the bed where to his joy he found a light switch and flicked it up.

"And there was light." 

This room was nothing like the rest of the house. It looked like it’d been stripped down to the bone with no wallpaper, no carpet, no curtains no nothing. Even the mattress was bare. The light fixtures weren’t grand, fancy rustic ordeals like the rest either; they were four simple spotlights.

Placing his phone on the bed, he craned his neck to look at the ceiling which was patchy like it had been painted over and over and now the room was lit, it was apparent that the entirety of it was very patchy. 

Seeming to forget this was the last place in the world he was supposed to be, he got lost in his wonderment, attention being brought to the large windows that stood tall either side of the bed both bolted shut with bars across. These were the only tell that this room did in fact belong to the house. It may have that freshly refurbished smell but it was clear that this room had been used quite a bit for something alarming, but what Louis couldn't figure and he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps he was best off staying ignorant. 

Finally his eyes fell upon the door in the far left corner. Immediately he presumed it was an en suite and when he pondered over, careful to avoid tripping over the stacks of boxes, he found he was correct. This time the light switch was right at the opening of the door but the fixture was still the same spotlight but bigger. Everything from the tub to the sink was clinically white and by the strong odour of bleach, it had been scrubbed to the bone. There were no pictures or decoration, no discarded towels soap or oddments of any kind. Just very clean. And very empty.

Turning around he switched the light off and stepped out, carefully pulling the door to a close behind him. Dusting himself off he started towards the bed where his phone still had the flashlight on and flipped the other switch off too.

“For such a slight thing…” Louis’ stomach did a 180 flip, "you have serious grit.”

Shit. 

Louis was rarely struck speechless, but the sound of that familiar rumbling voice was enough to shut off air supply for a few seconds. He gulped hard, hoping to push back the panic that was rising fast in his chest and looked towards it’s owner. He was all too aware that the only escape route was now being blocked.

“Harry..” 

He sounded breathy, the name pouring out on one quick exhale, too afraid he may stutter. 

To an innocent bystander Harry’s teeth baring smirk was an indicator towards the positive but for Louis it caused his stomach to convulse. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was moulded onto his face purposelessly and didn’t falter, nor did his confronting stare as he shifted from his position in the door way, gradually making his way further into the room. 

Normally in the face of danger his natural instinct is to become more confident, no matter how forced it may be he couldn’t let the opposition know he was wavering. But normally, he wasn’t staring a cold blooded killer in the face, in his house, for the third time.

Harry cocked his head slightly, amusement amplifying as every forward step he took Louis took one back. The low laugh that followed was void of joy and the hairs lining Louis’ neck stood to attention at the haunting sound.

“Where is she?” The blood thumping in his ears made it difficult to focus. 

Nothing about Harry’s expression shifted as he spoke.

“This,” The words rolled off his tongue and dropped, like Louis’ stomach, to the floor with a loud clunk, “is the second time you’ve broken into my property.”

There was no room left to back into and the middle of Louis’ back pressed rather painfully into the doorknob.

“W-where is she?” He repeated himself, half because he couldn’t gather his thoughts to process much more, half because he was afraid of what he’d done to her. 

Harry’s smirk subsided and something colder and more stoic took it’s place. Watching unresponsively as Louis clambered for his phone and back again, clutching the devise like it was his lifeline he simply continued to lessen the distance between them. The soft beams of light filtering through the barricaded windows bounced off the edges of his harsh cheekbones, making the cross hanging round his neck glint, specs of glittering dust floating around in his almost reverent glow despite his unholy intentions.

Louis couldn’t stop the involuntary flinch at the sound of lightly cracking bones as Harry’s hand subconsciously flexed and fisted twice at his side.

“Just give her back or I’ll call the police, I swear I will call the fucking police.”

By now there were two feet between them. Harry’s cologne flooded his senses, something earthy with spicy musk. That white hot stare was dizzying and Louis just couldn’t sustain it anymore. He dropped his eyes down for just a second feeling little but instant relief. The faux air of confidence - or remnants of one - shattered completely with this momentary appeasement.

Wrong move. 

Harry closed the gap with one long stride and bracketed Louis’ tiny physique against the door grabbing the frame with both arms pressing either side of his shoulders, flattening his back completely against it. On pure instinct alone Louis gripped both forearms to brace himself, fingers splayed over the solid muscle. 

Struggle was futile, there’s no way he was getting out of this. Heart slamming against his ribcage at a deafening pace, he was left with no choice but to stare into dark green eyes once more as they were centimetres away from his own.

“Louis," _how did he know_ , "I am a lot of things,” Full lips were now at Louis’ left ear, hot breath making his skin crawl. “Mainly bad things. But forgiving isn’t one of them, I don’t believe in second chances and certainly don’t entertain the three strikes and you’re out rule.” The deep sound vibrated to his core, being so close to that voice he couldn’t help but think about how for so many others that exact sound had been the last one they were to hear again.

Louis flicked his tongue over thin pink lips, gulping with a clamped shut jaw to try and get moisture back into his mouth. 

“So the fact you’re stood here before me in my own house, untouched and more pointedly,” Harry’s knuckles whitened with the force behind his grip, “ _alive_ , is curious.”

Pulling his head back, still careful not to make any real physical contact with him just yet, he bore down on the smaller male. Tiny fires were sparking underneath Louis’ fingertips where they gripped lightly on his skin. It had been a long time since he’d even had the chance to get so close to something so sweet and Louis was testing his boundaries. The sight of Louis’ wide eyes looking up at him with such submission sent palpitations to his crotch.

“I.. I-” 

Harry slammed his fist against the solid wood, startling Louis into mute when he spoke through clenched teeth, “Enough.”

If he let the anger simmering in his veins boil over then he knew what was coming.

“I’ve been too lenient.” Harry’s eyes flicked down to his lips, revelling in the shallow breaths coming from his tiny captive. 

He knew he wanted to reinstate his control over the situation but found himself fighting against something he’d never faced before. He didn’t want to take his life, not really. He didn’t really want to cause him extensive harm either like he found so often with others. The need for dominance was great still, but it held dissimilar intentions than what it usually did. 

Straightening himself up he removed his hands from the boy’s side causing Louis’ to drop too, before he allowed himself a lewd once over the sinful being before him. His actions may be forbidden but his thoughts remained that of his own will. And with the exposed curve of Louis’ neck, flushed cheeks and steadily rising and falling chest, they were obscene.

“Tell me why you do this to me?”

With the heavy threat of imminent death hanging over his head he didn’t know if he should speak or not. His heart was racing so fast he was sure he would have a cardiac arrest, his back was pained for being pressed so hard against solid wood, yet his mind was focusing on the single thing in the room that was looking at him as if he were his favourite meal and he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Harry tucked the cross inside of his grey tee shirt.

“My f-friend, you- she came in here so I followed, I didn’t want to she’s just -,” He looked down at his phone that he must’ve dropped, the display lit up with a text from none other than Annabelle, “and…what the…”

“Speak up!” His voice bellowed and the tiny whimper that escaped Louis’ mouth was embarrassing. But it was like catnip to Harry and he wanted more of it.

“Look I’m sorry, I thought you had taken her but she’s just text me an-and,” there were too many loose ends and Louis couldn’t make sense of any of them. Annabelle must be alright and looking for him, so Harry hadn’t touched her, “-you haven’t, I’m sorry okay? This wasn’t my fault.”

Harry took his eyes off him for a moment to bend forward and retrieve his phone. His nostrils flared as he read, brow furrowed. A large hand pushed his hair back before the other threw his phone at the wall with so much force the plaster broke off.

“ _Oh my g_ -” Louis gasped before having his jaw clamped in a powerful hand as Harry honed in on the boy once more, another strong arm next to his face as he leant in to speak.

“That little girl doesn’t interest me,” his voice was steady, Louis felt like crying, “ _it’s you_ ,” pushing back, Harry walked over to the door and forced it close with a strident bang, “you know what you do to me or else you wouldn’t keep coming back. Self assured little boy who thinks it’s fun to play with fire.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Harry…” 

It took Harry mere strides to invade his space again. He closed his eyes for a beat, his jaw set at the sound of his name on Louis’ tongue. It had been too long since he’d heard his name come from such a pure source. When they opened again they were locked onto Louis’.

“I should’ve done this the first time around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so for those of you who don't know what geocaching is, it's a little outdoorsy activity that anyone can do. If you want to know more, google.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: I know I've used warnings, but this chapter contains non consensual sex acts. So if you're not into it, please skip until the last couple of paragraphs.**

Harry anticipated Louis’ side step and grabbed a hold of his wrist, thumb overlapping fingers, instantly halting him.

He looked from Harry’s hand to his face and back again, “Please, _please_ just let me go, I was drunk and stupid before and this time I was just trying to protect-” Harry tightened his grip with every word he spoke, “- _ah okay it_ , it doesn’t matter I - I wo-.”

“Boys like you,” It was too easy to swivel Louis around, “need to learn some manners.”

Louis hissed because Harry’s vice like grip got so unbearably tight he was sure the rings had already broken skin. He tried to tug his arm away but the man only pushed it further up his back causing an unworldly amount of pain to wind it’s way from shoulder to forearm. Hot puffs of air were at his ear again, steady breaths being pushed out through flared nostrils. Harry had his front pressed firmly against the wall with an unyielding force. 

“ _P-please_ ,” Louis begged through a near sob, the physical torture and absolute certainty that he was in a losing battle when it came to such brute strength, crippling him.

Harry shushes him with lips so warm and close that make every fine hair on his body stand to attention.

The last string of sanity connecting Harry to the moral world was thin and threadbare. He had no interest in compromise or reason, consumed with a fury that had arisen from the darkest corner of his mind, controlled by raw lust for the boy with a mischief that needed to be tamed and a body that needed to be broken. He pressed a long thigh between Louis’ legs forcing them to part a little feeling the soft swell of his arse press against the top of it. Letting go of his excruciating hold he slammed Louis’ hands on the wall either side of side of his face with his own securing them there before he travelled further south. 

Relief flooded Louis from the release, but it was short lived as strong hands were now running down his sides, making him shiver with how small he felt in their hold, fingers spanning to an intimidating diameter as they found temporary solace on his hips. He dared not to move.

“M- Harry,” Finger pads dug down with firm pressure, enough to mark, “ _Harry what are you_ …”

This wasn’t something he’d even considered. He was sure he’d have his oesophagus mangled by now, his name added to the list of victims that were ceased by Harry Styles’ hands. But instead those exact heavy hands were feeling him in a profane manner, a long, solid torso behind him making it feel like he were sandwiched between two walls and the most concerning matter - a sizeable hardness growing by the second against his arse. 

The back of his neck was secured in a death grip, forcing his face to the side and his cheek to be pressed against the rough plaster.

“You’ll be a good boy won’t you?” 

Louis’ heart hammered. 

Before he could respond, the same robust hand grappled his jaw and an index finger was pushed past his parted lips.

“Suck.”

Louis’ brain scrambled. Allowing this humiliation to happen was one thing, letting a person order him around and take advantage of his pliant state worked against everything he stood for, deranged maniac or not. His pride stretched too far for this kind of control. Yet as he gently grazed the foreign skin with his teeth he found himself willed by some strange compulsion laced with fear to submit for it didn’t take him a second thought to close his lips around the intrusion and run his tongue along the underneath. The grip on his waist hardened, pushing down slightly leaving Louis no choice but to dip his back. 

A deep sound rumbled from Harry’s chest and through his ribcage as the familiar feeling made his dick throb. 

Bound by greed he added another finger, feeling Louis’ gentle moan vibrate around them as pushed in hard, just short of triggering his gag reflex. The sensation made him want to have Louis on his knees and watch him choke on him right there and then. But such things had to remain motivation as he was going to make sure he enjoyed this properly. He wasted no time popping the button to Louis’ jeans, quickly tugging them down only enough to reveal the delicious fullness of Louis’ back side in tight white underwear, which was even more pronounced being pushed up against the top of his thigh. 

Panic struck hard. Trying to recover from the loss of focus Louis nearly did choke on his fingers and tears prickled the back of his eyes. His hands were in literal surrender on the wall before him, he tried to think, tried to form a single coherent thought but all he knew was Harry and how full he was of him; of his thick calloused fingers. 

Louis was working his fingers so good but Harry was hungry and knew all too well what was going to feel even better. Sufficed he pulled them out equally as hard with a wet pop. 

“Good boy, let's see how much this is going to…,” A hand secured his neck again, Louis’ line of vision angled at the ensuite and nothing else, “hurt you.” Two fingers and a thumb stretched the band of his underwear. 

Louis could do nothing but blink back the sting in his eyes. Words were ineffective, struggle was pointless.

It seemed only seconds ago he was sat at his desk counting down the minutes and now he was miles out, enslaved by the unstable owner of the two unfamiliar fingers pressing at his entrance, their soft circular movements would’ve been euphoric under any other circumstance. Harry pushed in without warning to the first knuckle and Louis’ head spun, automatically both hands flew back and latched onto Harry’s abuse.

“ _Oh my god, oh my g-_ ” On a sharp inhale Harry chose that moment to push to the second knuckle and Louis hiccuped a high pitched moan. The tightness was maddening. Even for Harry.

“No, no please,” His hands fought desperately to rip away the assailment, “you can’t do- do this, _sss’ah_ -”

The soft sounds and futile defiance did nothing but spur Harry on. Only adding to the rampant heat rising in his chest, clouding his already fogged mind and provoking another twitch to his now aching, restrained arousal that was bare inches and two layers of clothing apart from that ridiculously tight heat. 

“Oh, I’ve struck gold,” Harry was slowly moving his fingers in and out at an uneven pace, dragging them along the warmth, “you’re not accustomed to having something in here are you?”

The stretch that came from fingers wider and longer than his own was unbearable without preparation. 

He tried so hard to reply but where he willed words to form a strangled whimper came out instead as those fingers shifted heavily inside of him. If he got any rougher flesh would be torn for sure.

“You’re not…” Harry abandoned his hazy fixation to lean forward and actually _nip_ with sharp incisors at his ear lobe, “a _virgin_ , surely.”

It was more of a presumptuous statement than a question, Harry was so astounded that something as rare and exquisite as Louis would still be ignorant to lure of sexual temptation. It brought a bemused smile to his lips. Someone must’ve placed their mark on this sweet, precious boy by now. 

Said boy’s mouth had fallen open in a silent cry, eyes blurred with tears about to overflow at any moment. 

“M’gonna enjoy this.”

“N..” 

Louis tried pushing off the wall with unsteady arms, shaking his head to get the thick voice away from him.

Harry was growing impatient. 

He shifted back from his ear and with a final turn of his wrist, pulled out at a sickly slow pace. Eyes burning watching the taut muscle contract as he did, thriving in how the once light pink shade had deepened from it’s abuse. Shooting a tongue out to moisten chapped lips he let the band of his underwear snap back, mind alight with vivid visuals of the sins he was about to commit.

Louis saw his chance and threw caution to the wind. In absolute desperation and with the small area of space that was granted to him, he threw his right elbow backwards, hitting whatever it was he managed to hit with as much force he could muster. And whatever it was it earned him a clipped groan through a huffed breath from the larger male. 

Harry clutched his abdomen with a short snarl, a single foot braced backwards to steady his small stumble. He hadn’t been sufficiently winded from the blow but more startled from Louis’ ever relenting stubborn will to work against him.

His pupils were blown, eyes darker than ever now, taking on tunnel vision. Any remnants of patience he may of once possessed now gone.

Louis had managed to pull the back of his pants up, button still popped. He knew he was moving but he couldn’t feel his legs, feet barely touching ground as he shot towards the door. He frantically kicked a box out of his path when a powerful inked arm latched around his middle drawing him backwards in an instance. He swung him round and onto the bed only letting go just before he hit the mattress.

“Ow, _ah_ ” Louis’ healing rib pinches and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, who quirks an eyebrow. 

“Still your stubbornness supersedes you,” Harry stepped round to the side where he gained easy access to Louis, strong hands making quick work of positioning his little infringement of a person so his legs were hanging over the edge either side of his own, “even when you know your efforts are _useless_.” 

Louis writhed. 

Small hands jostling against much larger, much more capable ones as he did all that he could to scramble his way to the other side of the mattress only to be pulled back down by fingers that wrapped a full circle around his exposed ankles. He ignored the tug on his ribs, the pain shooting through his arm as he kicked his legs hopelessly, trying to push at something, _anything_ to get away.

Deciding enough was enough, Harry practically growled snatching his shirt collar suddenly and hoisting him up so he was eye level. Louis actually whimpered as his feet lifted completely off the floor, Harry’s legs still pressed firmly against the bed. 

“You’ve just made this so much worse for yourself,” Harry spat out his sentence, wild eyes trained onto wide ones, the weight of Louis seeming to bear no impairment on him whatsoever, “you stupid, _insolent_ boy.”

Harry’s biceps were at full capacity, thin cotton stretching to accommodate them as he held Louis for a second longer before completely dropping him. Louis fell back on the rough mattress with little to no bounce providing a soft landing. He was forced to the ground with a loud thud, then hauled upwards so he knelt on hard floorboard that creaked underneath him as a swift hand fisted dishevelled hair on the back of his head. 

Two solid thighs stood like grand pillars before him, supporting the hefty mass above. A rasped sob worked it's way up Louis' throat but he coughed from the dry tickle and was caught short as his head was pulled back, baring the long line of his throat. He gazed up through innocent eyes at a furious Harry, chest heaving. Before he could even open his mouth to plead a sharp blow collided with his cheek, nearly snapping his neck in the process. 

It could’ve only been Harry’s hand but it may as well have been a brick. 

The onset of a headache was already buzzing through his temples. Excruciating pain rattled through his skull and a metallic taste coated his tongue. 

“Now,” There was movement in front of him and if it weren’t for the hand still clutching a fistful of his hair forcing his head forward again, he wouldn’t have witnessed Harry’s hand working his own jean fastening, “stay, _still_.”

Louis’ already sore throat closed up at the sight. Saliva dripped down the inside of his cheeks, pooling underneath his tongue inside his otherwise parched mouth, unable to look at anything other than what Harry allowed him, he gulped down on the taste of blood. 

The alarming swell of Harry’s arousal fell in line with the rest of his being and was frighteningly above average. Now only a thin grey material keeping it restrained.

Louis’ hands clawed at the hardboard beneath his clammy palms, his slender appendages shaking with every breath as his eyes traced the outline of the task ahead.

There was an almighty crash that sounded like it had come from downstairs. 

Fingers splayed on his head, Louis could feel the cold metal of rings pressing down hard but couldn’t bring himself to care as all his focus was drawn to the small patch of wetness on Harry’s underwear, forming at the tip of his dick. 

Another clatter came from outside. Now followed by the frantic sound of many, _many_ footsteps. 

Something crossed Harry’s eyes. 

It was difficult with tremors running through every muscle but Louis tore his gaze away from his previous enrapture just in time to see it. Those dark green violations had softened so minutely that it took someone who had been staring into their hellish state for so long to even recognise the shift. 

Harry’s free hand came up to Louis’ face. He flinched and bit his bottom lip in a bid to contain the trembling. Despite this, Harry thumbed away a tear. Louis squeezed his eyes shut, silently praying for this to just _stop_.

“Why did you have to come back?” The normally booming growl was hoarse and small-

“ _Styles don’t move another fucking muscle!_ ” 

A roaring male voice came from someone who had entered the room behind Harry and blue eyes shot back open. 

Harry’s hands stilled.

A litter of men filed through after him and made a circle, something that looked rehearsed, around him and Harry. Every single one of them had guns aimed straight at Harry. Harry who didn’t look fazed by any of this. Harry, who had let go but was still looking straight at Louis.

“Louis.”

Louis whipped his head towards the man in the suit.

This middle aged man had the appearance of being in a realm of wealth. Clean fingernails, slicked back salt and peppered hair, tailored navy suit and oxfords, with a glinting silver watch draped around his wrist, striking to be almost bored with the situation at hand. He ran a hand over his prim hair and sighed, cracking his neck audibly before sniffling and stepping forward. 

“Don’t worry,” The smile that was plastered on his face was no more genuine than Harry’s from before. “Come now, you’re safe with us.” 

He set a black briefcase on the ground before stepping around the huddle of men to collect a terrified Louis from his confinement on the floor. 

Louis hesitated to respond as the man crouched on his knees, not sure of anything but his own pain right now. Not sure any of this was even real.

“It’s okay, you’re okay now.” The man held onto Louis’ trembling hands, helping him become vertical once more. He didn’t let go of his shoulders while he fiddled with his jeans, humiliation not having chance to register due to shock being at large, “Alright let’s get you out of here. Dan you know what to do.”

Suit man raised his voice for the last part before holding out a hand awaiting Louis to follow and when he did he braced it between his shoulder blades guiding him out of the room quickly. Gripping his right arm from injury he took a wary glance over his shoulder and the momentary desperation in Harry’s eyes from before had been replaced with the cold arrogance he was used to, winking at one of the men with a gun poised right towards his head while being shackled by another. 

Flicking his eyes down he caught sight of the briefcase from earlier being opened to reveal a row of syringes, before exiting through the door completely.


	7. 7

“So how long has he been in there?”

“Since yesterday morning, I think I heard him come out for the toilet at fuck knows what time in the night and again early this morning but that’s it.”

“He hasn’t eaten?”

“I’ve taken up toast and other stuff for him to graze on but every time I go to check they’re untouched.”

“Right.”

“Work has been calling but he doesn’t want to know.”

“Not even Annabelle?”

“Nope.”

“…shit.”

“Mh.”

Zayn sat wide legged on the sofa in Louis and Niall’s front lounge, long fingers clasped between even slender legs. In front of him stood a wild eyed Niall, biting the skin around his thumb. His leg bounced nervously as he searched Zayn’s being like he held all the answers. 

“Mate I don’t know what to do,” his voice was teetering on a whimper, “it’s been eight days and he’s hardly said three words to me after the hospital.”

In the ten years he’d known Louis, he’d never felt so useless. Between the pair of them he’d always been the chipper one, more carefree and immature when it came to pretty much everything as his life’s experiences have been constructed on a mantra of ‘winging it’. Louis was naturally the more sensible one. He definitely matched his immaturity on some levels though, sometimes even exceeded him and surprised them both. Louis was zesty; pure sass with a jovial and quick tongue that got him into and out of many sticky situations. Niall was more dear-caught-in-headlights type of silly. But he was too caring when it came to his closest and wore his heart on his sleeve. Not that Louis didn’t, he just almost always wore a jacket. Niall stumbled through life with a permanent _fuck it_ plastered on his back for all to watch and a firm slap of reality waiting for him from Louis if he went a little overboard. 

But that’s just what they do. That’s who they are, they balance each other out and it works. As stubborn as Louis is and as intruding as Niall _always_ is they just work but right now Niall is fresh out of ideas. No amount of childish banter or offensively nonsensical jokes or tea or Oscar Wilde quotes or Christopher Nolan films or re runs of Grand Designs or some wild conspiracy theory explained until he was beginning to question his own reflection was going to make this better. He’d never seen his best friend so gone before. So detached. Nor had he seen him so on edge of everything. He had to watch as Louis got prodded by hospital staff surveying his bruises, tending to his wounds and him physically _cry_ from the contact. 

_“Please, Louis, we’re not trying to hurt you we just have to-”_

_“Don’t touch me I’m fine just let GO of me!”_

_“Louis you have a cracked rib and various other injuries, we just need to see if there’s any dam-”_

_“I don’t care I’m fine just don’t fucking-”_

_“It is our duty to care even if you don’t Louis, please calm down.”_

_“No! I’m calm- I was calm until you started touching me just get away from me I want to go home!”_

Cutting the memory just short of the needle that was then plunged into his thigh Niall ran a hand over his face, pausing for a second to gather himself before another wave of tears.

“Niall there’s nothing you can do okay?” 

Zayn looked up after a few beats, mind racing back to the call he received that same night seven days ago from a hysterical Niall. Followed by another not a few hours later once the news had broke as to exactly what had happened from a _livid_ Niall. “We can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, not right now anyway.”

Niall thought he heard movement through the ceiling, eyes trained to a single stitch in the carpet to focus on the sound. 

But it didn’t sound again and he sighed, running his hands down his t-shirt. He resigned to the spot next to his friend on the couch with a soft thump.

“I know you’re right.”

Zayn slapped a hand on Niall’s bony knee and rubbed a warm circle. The chocolate hue of his eyes was soothing, Niall flopped his head back on the cushion looking down at him.

“You’ve been great and Louis is so grateful for what you’ve done you can bank on that,” A tiny smile played at his lips but not in his eyes, “he just can’t show it right now. You can’t feel bad for something you can’t control, all you can do, all _we_ can do is be there for him when he needs us. Whenever that may be.”

Niall hummed. It was the first time he’d sat down properly in a few hours and his toes buzzed. Being around Zayn was always a placid, smooth experience and that was exactly what he needed right now. Like a wave birthing on the shore he came and washed over all the debris, all the tension and pain and pulled it back with him, sweeping away most of the grit leaving a calmer scene in his wake. He very rarely expressed himself through physical affection or emotion, somehow managing to keep his own issues as well as others all locked up inside and yet never reaching a boiling point. 

Niall regarded this saint like creature through hooded eyes, feeling every single one of his muscles relax one by one, becoming one with the polyester. 

“Right,” He patted this knee, having not actually removed his hand yet, a final time before standing up and stretching his arms above his head, “I need a cig.”

 

*

 

After analysing a grand total of three menus, weighing up whether his stomach could handle the spice after the turn he had last night, he flipped from the Indian to the Chinese to the Italian and back to the Chinese when Zayn decided he really didn’t care this much. 

“Niaaaall.”

His liquid voice sounded smooth even raised several octaves. 

Not three seconds later was there a blonde blur in his peripherals. 

“Yeah you can decide, I’m not so fussed.”

Which, of course Niall was the person to consult when considering food options. He took one look at the choices in front of him and looked like he was actually taking some proper time to carefully evaluate each one, turning them over separately and running his fingers down the paper as he read. 

So Zayn couldn’t help the small snort when he tapped them into neat pile and all but slam dunked them into the bin behind him. 

“Er…”

“Pizza.” Niall shot a pair of hands to his hips, sighing, “Dominoes pizza. I can’t be bothered with anything finicky.”

Retiring from asking why Niall was the way he was, fearing he may not want to know the answer, Zayn muttered an agreeance and was about to reach for his phone on the counter when the kitchen door creaked, making them both turn around. It was alarming how overwhelming the urge was to scoop up the small boy that had just entered and wrap him in several thick, soft layers. The two of them shared a look as if to communicate this exact thought. 

Louis’ voice amounted to a single decibel.

“M’thirsty…”

Niall nearly pulled the fridge handle clean off in the speed at which he opened it, already turning around with the filter in his hand looking for a clean glass to poor the ice cold liquid into. 

“Sure, let me just find… ah there we are.”

Louis was swimming in the hoody he wore. It was black, official Jurassic Park merchandise that he’d purchased when his family went to Disney in Florida five years ago. They were all out of his size - xs - when it came to it so he had to settle for a medium which positively buries him.

He tugged down at the sleeves so his hands were hidden, padding his way to the glass Niall was currently filling for him.

He took it with a small nod. 

Niall was placing the filter back into the fridge door when he turned to Zayn, eyes bulging. He beckoned his head towards Louis’ back, face a picture of desperation. He really needed him to say something as this was the first time he’d actually _seen_ Louis move for two days, willingly coming downstairs with hair that hadn’t seen a brush in days and eyes that hadn’t welcomed sleep in longer. 

“So Louis we’re um,” Zayn waved his phone around when Louis placed his glass down and looked at him, features that were sharp, pixie like and held the light of a million suns now lifeless and ordinary, “we’re ordering pizza, we’d love it if you joined us. A movie might be involved too.”

Tired eyes looked from Zayn to the phone and back again. There was something about the way he nearly inclined his head as he parted his lips to speak, the way he took a deeper breath than was needed as he looked to the other expectant boy in the room, that looked like he was going to refuse the offer.

The deep breath was now let go on a long, soft sigh.

“Okay, pizza sounds good.”

 

 

*

 

 

_“Harry…”_

_The owner of the name closed his eyes. It just sounded too good coming coated in that accent, that gentle high voice._

_The owner of the voice had small hands braced on either bicep, looking up through the most delectable sapphire shade from underneath him. Such beauty would surely stunt anyone else._

_“I really do love the way you say my name sweetheart.”_

_Louis swallowed thickly and it was noticeable._

_“I don’t want to do this.”_

_Harry’s eyes were still trained on his neck._

_“I don’t much care for what you want,” He leant down, enjoying every bit of Louis that was offered to him every bit that he was going to claim as his own anyway, “you like to tease and that is a punishable offence.”_

_Louis thrashed his head to the side as his hands were pinned at the top of his head, burying deep in the pillow from solid pressure above._

_“No you’re wrong I don’t- Harry get off-“_

_Harry ignored his protests as he made quick work of his underwear, yanking them down his thighs that he had pinned down with his own._

_“No, no please no…,”_

_With a pinch to his side and a coil like manoeuvre of his legs, Louis was face down._

_“Stop! Harry you can’t-“_

_In a bid to mute his whines, Harry let go of his hands to secure one of his own around Louis’ jaw, smothering him completely._

_He could feel the harsh vibrations from Louis’ desperate screams, concealed to this throat and Harry’s palm._

_He ran two fingers over his hole and spat into the space he made holding his cheeks open with them._

_So small and tight._

_Louis’ hips bucked. Not enough to cause trouble, but plenty to add to Harry’s arousal._

_“You’ll never learn.”_

_Already at maximum arousal, Harry pulled himself out of his underwear and lined up the thick girth with Louis’ entrance..._

 

 

Harry wakes up with a surging pain through his naval.

There were IV lines in his arms and sweat had become a second skin. 

Looking down, he saw a bead of moisture travel down and disappear underneath his shirt.

Oxygen was making a mockery of him, running in every direction but his. His chest heaved for a whisper of it, throat constricting, head whirling with how dizzying the effort to even open his eyelids was. 

One ragged breath in, the thick air still suffocating rather than lubricating… and one shallow breath out. 

Repeat.

He had to crack his eyes open to face what he already knew was there. 

“I knew you still had it in you.”

Dr Des Styles, Harry’s well respected, sought after Father was sat in the mahogany leather armchair across form him, complete with a crystal glass one quarter full of what would only be whiskey. He raised the glass in toast to Harry after taking a sip and placing back on the golden coaster atop the small tea table beside him.

Harry said nothing. He was still trying to regulate his breathing so the room would stop spinning, never mind endure the pain that would come as a result of the response he so wanted to give. 

“Just needed to make sure,” Des stood now, refastening his suit jacket not making any attempt to actually look at his son, “I wouldn’t have had to if you just listened. I told you he was bad news boy, you shouldn’t disrespect your elder like that.”

Now Harry could make out his two legs, two arms and one - albeit smudgy - unmistakable face, eyes even from Harry’s induced state, ever cold with zero attachment, he could see the small gesture he made towards the two men either side of him. Immediately one moved towards the monitor and the other towards himself. The needle was removed from his forearm, this done slowly and carefully as always. Next came the cotton ball applied with pressure to stop any minor blood loss and coat the puncture with antiseptic. Harry closed his eyes once more as a finger brushed a few stray hairs from his face and the pad from his temple was removed with a small snapping sound. 

When he opened them again it was to Des standing in front of him, hands in pockets, lips set in a straight line and like Harry’s, his strong jaw clenched. He looked down at him through blue eyes dissimilar to his own though. It wasn’t the type of blue one could find comfort in; wasn’t anything so captivating and wondrous that you wanted to stay host to their seize. They were dull and bereft. Cold. 

“Why do this to yourself Harry?” They both knew full well, if it weren’t for Harry’s weakened form, Des wouldn’t be vertical after that statement.

“I know we had to take precautions and up your dose just incase he came back but I didn’t think he’d amount to such stupidity,” He peered at his wristwatch, then resumed his patronising hold on the hunched boy before him, “but maybe if you weren’t so foolish and welcoming to him the first time he set foot on my property this wouldn’t have happened. You’re growing soft Harry. Bringing him inside only to leave him for us to collect? _Safe and sound_.”

Harry had been focusing on the single button that clasped his grey suit, staying completely still until there were no double images anymore. He blinked once, slowly, then pulled his gaze upwards to meet his Father’s. 

“That’s right. If it weren’t for you Louis’ attack wouldn’t have taken place and I wouldn’t have to now go and try and convince him to keep his mouth _shut_.” He bent over so he was eye to eye with him, “You’ll never win Son.”

Harry’s chest filled with something he hadn’t felt before.

“I hate you.”

The words came out on a severely scratched voice. Tired and worn. But the venom behind them undoubtedly present.

This coaxed nothing from the older male but a short punch of breath through his nose. 

He turned on his heels, taking a deep breath in and whipped past the men who had just about finished packing the monitor and wires away before retrieving his glass of alcohol and downing it in one gulp. He turned around so quickly that even they barely restrained a jump and stopped dead as Des threw the tumbler to the ground with so much force, the crystal smashed into hundreds of pieces at Harry’s feet. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he sniffed as he watched Harry who hadn’t even flinched at this display. 

“Come on gentlemen,” Des still didn’t take his eyes off him, “we’re done here.”


	8. 8

_-Four weeks later-_

 

The chaos of that evening comes back to Louis in small, but potent pieces; the surprising sound of his own screams and pleads, the shackled feeling of larger hands binding his own. The smell of dusty wood and sweat. 

A cologne that won’t ever been pleasant. 

Settling at his desk once more he tried to remember what the instructions were given to him just seconds ago from his boss. His boss, who wore that exact same cologne.

As he spoke, Louis’ mind was nothing but white noise. Four out of his five senses forgetting how to function as his sense of smell became first rate. He could only watch through glassy eyes his boss’s mouth moving soundlessly in slow motion as the spiced scent sunk into his pores, settled into his bloodstream, propelling towards his heart. 

Louis clutched his chest from the memory.

He couldn’t have a panic attack. Not here. It had been a week since his last, he was doing fine.

“ _Shit_..” Louis steadied the shaking of his hand on the top drawer of his desk. Cursing at how ridiculous he felt. 

He yanked it open and retrieved the bright orange bottle he’d become accustomed to over the past few weeks. Just about managing to pluck the lid off without the entire contents going flying, he let a couple of the white pills tumble into his cupped hand, placing the bottle on the desk.

He necked the pills with the tiny plastic cup of water he’d brought in with him.

It was okay. He tried to tell himself it was okay and that this wasn’t going to go away over night. He wasn’t _weak_ , this was the _normal reaction to a traumatic event…_

_…Louis, you’re not weak. You’re simply experiencing early, moderate PTSD and that is categorically okay. In fact, if you weren’t experiencing any signs of anxiety or panic then we would have a problem on our hands…_

_…just two a day, when you feel the panic starting to rise and you’ve already taken your limit, one will suffice and then from then on twice daily again…_

_… progress appointments just to check in will be held weekly…_

_…you’ve got a long road ahead of you Louis, medication is only the starting point…. keep your loved ones close…_

 

Louis let his hands that were covering his face slide downwards, interrupting his thoughts. He blinked his tired eyes at the door that had creaked open.

A small hand held the handle, but the body was concealed, still hovering just outside the door. 

Louis let his hands fall to his lap, leaning forward a touch to try and hear the hushed conversation being held by this intruder. But he soon slumped back, fists that he hadn’t realised he’d clenched, relaxing as he identified the mystery person.

“Annie!”

Her expression reeked of sympathy and Louis despised it.

“ _Louis_ ,” Were those tears? “Louis I… Oh come here.” 

She swung the patchwork bag that was hanging on her shoulder onto the chair along with the tattered book she was clutching to her chest and launched for him. Her hair smelled of raspberries as it cascaded in it’s loose, but very thick form over Louis’ face.

Louis couldn’t help but smile as the tiny brunette had took it upon herself to perch on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck pulling him into the world’s tightest hug. She squeaked when she let go, letting her hands be braced on his flat chest.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so-” now cupping his face with ice cold fingers, she peppered kisses over his cheek, nose and up to his hairline, “I’m so sorry.”

Louis tried pulling her hands away gently, but she really wasn’t budging. 

“Annie what are you,” he scrunched his nose at another set of kisses to his temple. “What are you sorry for?”

It took her a couple of seconds to unwind from her lightly constricting hold around his neck again until she sat back a bit, eyes reddened from tears that Louis had suspected. His heart melted.

“Annie…” 

“No. Louis, it’s my fault. It was _all_ my _fault_ if I hadn’t convinced you to ditch work this would n-never have happened,” her heavy sobs caused her to hiccup and Louis could only watch her helplessly, “if - if I hadn’t insisted we go into that fucking house and go look for the cache then, then you… you would-”

“No shh, Annie stop,” Louis cut her off. He wasn’t good with criers. His heart was bigger than he was but he was awkward when it came to comfort, “you’re not going to blame yourself.”

She wiped her nose of the back of her coat. And shook her heard furiously. Louis regarded this gingerly as he swirled around in his chair to reach for the pack of tissues that he conveniently keeps in his second draw. He’d never been more happy about having a touch of OCD when it comes to hygiene that he is now, watching the snail trail of snot she had left behind on her sleeve. 

“Here,” He held out the packet of tissues, already fumbling with the hand sanitiser, “-look I know what you’re saying, but it’s not your fault. It’s not my fault either. It’s… it’s his.”

She shook her head, blowing her nose making a sound similar to that of a dying whale. Louis frowned. She was so tiny and quaint yet was capable of being so brassy. He thinks he positively adores her.

“N-no, I was so pushy. I don’t know why you still want - want to know me.”

Louis cocked his head to the side and observed this bundle of salty tears and snot on his lap.

“You’re wonderful.”

She looked at him then, big brown eyes sparkling from the lighting overhead. 

“I think you’re wonderful and the fact you’re still so happy to see me after I’ve been ignoring you for the past month, shows me just how much I need you my life.” Louis bopped her nose before nudging her so gently, “how much I _want_ you in my life.”

“But Louis-”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Annabelle. Please? No more tears.” 

She looked at Louis cautiously. Wanting to say so many things, ask so many questions that for now ill have to remain un answered. With a final parting peck to his nose she stood up after Louis softly motioned for her to move.

“Fine, for now. But you’re okay?”

Louis dusted down his pants, pinching the corner of a crumpled tissue between his thumb and forefinger before dropping it in the paper bin. 

“I am.”

“Then what are these?”

Louis turned back around to see her holding the small bottle of pills from earlier, sniffling. 

“Those…” He stalked back up and after trying to muster his most indignant look and failing he snatched it away and passed the bottle between his hands, enjoying the rattling sound of the pills inside, “don’t worry, those are prescribed. For when things get wobbly.”

“Wobbly.”

He shut his draw with a satisfying snap. 

“Yes, Annie. Honestly people have been falling about around me for so long now and I get it, I do, obviously but I’m really trying to get back to normal okay? You and boss Steve are the only people who know what’s happened and I’d like to keep it that way by just carrying on as normal.”

Annabelle bit the inside of her mouth as she leant against the desk.

“Please? If I need to talk, I promise you’ll be the first. But until then please, I don’t want you to treat me differently.”

His door opened with such force Louis was surprised it still had the hinges attached.

“ _Tommooo_!” 

Amir was the only other intern in this office alongside Louis and he honestly and truthfully hated him. Him and his obnoxiously loud voice, his _nothing pisses me off the sun is always shining and I hardly know you enough to be talking to you but I’m going to get inappropriately close and invasive anyway because I’m everybody’s best friend even yours Louis Tomlinson_ attitude made him want to peel his nipples off.

“Amir.”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose and Annabelle suppressed a giggle. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to hiding his obvious dislike towards him. And Amir completely ignoring it. Every single time. 

“I had no idea you were back pal-o! Nick said you’ve been back a week now, mighty rude of you to not come and say hello you sugar snap.”

Louis closed his eyes to hide the obscene eye roll.

“Very rude.”

“Good Christmas?”

Louis risked a glance at Annabelle,

“Festive, yours?”

“Jolly as fuck mate. Anywhooo Steve said sod the blueprints, you can send them tomorrow, he wants you and me at the Lodge right away. I think he wants to see if our ideas match up to his vision for the refurb or something. So I’ll meet you in the lobby yeah? Chop chop! Bye Fannie!”

Louis made a face at the closed door and Annie couldn’t contain her laugher any longer.

“You really fucking hate that guy don’t you?” She clutched her stomach, still holding a tissue.

“And you don’t?”

“I mean well-”

“Did you hear what he just called you?!”

“Yeah but he’s harmless really. Like an excited puppy, you just have to humour him.” 

“Don’t,” Louis sighed and start about collecting various notepads and things to fill his satchel, once he remembers where he’d put it. “Compare him to a puppy. Puppies are cute. He is not.” 

"...You're more like a kitten."

Brow furrowed, hair momentarily mussed from being bent over, Annabelle could only smile at the Universe's timing. Never had he fitted the description so well.

"If by kitten you mean ferocious lion cub then yeah, I can get behind that."

"No, you're a cute, tiny little kitten, soft edges but a razor sharp tongue."

"Tiny?" Louis balanced the stack of books in one arm as he reached for the marker pen he'd for some reason put on the second shelf of his bookcase.

"You're in such denial. I love it."

Annabelle cleared her throat, tossing the now soiled tissue into the bin behind Louis and helped herself to hand sanitiser. 

Louis was stood with an armful of notepads, books and a couple stray items of stationary, frowning at his compact surroundings. The room was small enough and mainly brown with cream and grey detailing. Surely a black satchel wouldn’t be this easy to lose.

“Um Louis there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about. About that, that day.” 

She was unsure of what to expect. Louis had already stated he wished to not talk about it, so pushing the subject in any which way was risky. She waited hand hovering above her own bag on the other chair for his response.

It came as a distracted, “Hm?”

She took this as a green light.

“Well, when I was looking for the cache I got quite lost. That place is more like a riddle in a physical, like, house form-”

“A maze, Annie.”

“-uh, what?”

“The word you’re looking for, is maze.”

Recognition dawned and she felt slightly dumb.

“Oh. I guess you’re right. Yeah, well I was completely lost and quite scared..” Louis was listening closely now, “and I happened to stumble across something. Something I maybe shouldn’t have.”

He said nothing.

“…and I’m a little confused as to what it means.”

She was testing the waters.

He was about to sit down when he saw his bag, leant against the opposite side of his desk. Where he can’t remember venturing since he came in only fifteen minutes ago. 

“Annie, love, spit it out.” He let the load fall into the satchel, pegging it open with a knee awkwardly.

She huffed and reached inside her own bag, quickly withdrawing a piece of paper from it before floundering it before Louis. 

“Here look, it’s correspondence from the Court.”

Louis just managed to take ahold of the paper that was being forced beneath his nose and not let his bag go tumbling to the ground therefore letting it’s contents spill out again. The struggle to get them in there was hard enough. He half glared at her as he hoisted the satchel back onto the chair safely, before swinging it up and over his head. 

Squinting because he didn’t have his glasses on, he scanned the letter before him.

“This is addressed to Dr. Des Styles.” 

“Yeah.”

“Wait, this is what you found in the house?”

“Yes.”

Eyes wide he looked at her while his heart fell through the floor.

“You took this from his house?”

“Obviously, yeah.”

“ _Annabelle are you_ -” Louis placed a hand on his forehead and kept it there looking at the letter, “they’re going to know this is missing, why didn’t you just take a picture?!”

This wasn’t something that had occurred to her. The same dread steadily crept it’s way up her spine as it had Louis’ when she thought about the consequences.

“I, oh yeah.”

“Shit… _shit_ , Annie!” 

There was no way they could casually hand it back over without explanation. This was a letter from the court, therefore is an important piece of legal documentation that wasn’t addressed to them, un suited for their eyes, not for their possession and what’s worse it was in reference to the last person in the world he wanted to be stealing from.

“Okay but listen, before we freak out about this…” 

Louis would very much like to flick her head clean off her shoulders.

“No listen to me, before we start to freak out about this just read what it says,” She held her hands up to hush Louis’ imminent protest, “ _just_ , read.”

Heart hammering lightly in his chest, working against the pills that had been newly acquired, Louis sighed. But read is what he did. Even if he had to hold the paper at just the right distance to be able to do so. 

Straight away the tone struck him as odd. It was short and the informality was strange; it was clearly written by a professional, an academic due to the terminology, but the context was if it were more of a personal note on official parchment paper than any real, legal correspondence. His interest peaked a few lines in:

_“….and as privy to our agreement, it is with concern I write you this letter as the last_  
time I contacted you it amounted to no such reply. If you would like to refer to the attached drugs test,  
you will see that as of two months ago the amount of induced Zygllapthrone was considerably higher  
than that to which we agreed. This, along with the other alarming outcomes, is not acceptable. 

_This is my formal request for an up to date drug analysis test to be carried out and posted to me in the  
near future and an explanation for the attached one. Eames has been alerted._

_I expect a response within the week. If you fail to do so, it is with regret that I will have to  
take the necessary measures we previously discussed._

_Yours,_

_Ivan_

_Ivan_.

The paper floated to the ground. Light as a feather, landing softly without a peep.

Louis followed. Knees buckled, landing with a horrific thud.

 

 

*

 

_-Three weeks earlier-_

 

Louis stood in the doorway, not sure of what to make of the situation.

Niall was there, usual. It was a Saturday and it was his home and that was normal.

Spok was sat obediently in the corner not making an ounce of fuss. Not normal.

Especially because there was a stranger sat on their couch, rigid back, shiny shoes and an even more impeccable head of hair. He smiled up at Louis, who just stared back, lips parted almost hesitant whether to speak or not. He wasn’t entirely sure a voice would come out even if he wanted it to.

Thing was, the man sat in the perfectly tailored suit wasn’t really a stranger at all. It was the man who had escorted him out of the house that evening, who had whispered in his ear that he’d be hearing from him soon enough as he ushered him straight into a blacked out vehicle and true to his word, there he sat. 

Dr. Des Styles.

“Louis. As lovely as it is to see you again, it is with regret.”

Louis looked to Niall for explanation. But all he got was a detached smile and a ducked head as he muttered something about making a drink, appearing as small as possible as he scurried straight past Louis’ position in the doorway and through to the kitchen.

Brilliant.

So Niall was being weird, but in a very non-Niall way and he was left with an unusually tame dog and a face that reminded him of the exact face he was nearly killing himself trying to forget.

“Please,” He gestured to the space beside him, “I’d like to talk.”

It was barely a conscious decision to eat anymore so he wasn’t surprised that he managed to make his way to the couch without a second thought. He sat down next to the well dressed man. Teetering on the edge of the seat cushion he felt oddly out of place in his own home.

“If you will let me, I’d like to explain a few things to you, in the hope that you will at least agree to keep this terrible, unfortunate affair clear from public knowledge.”

Well at least he didn’t beat around the bush.

Louis made a face, it was barely a change of expression, but it got across the message.

_What. The fuck?_

How he was so sure Louis didn’t tell any authorities what had happened in the hospital was beyond him.

Des appeared pained as he dove into his element. 

‘ _Multiple personality disorder_ ’, ‘ _Psychosis_ ’ and ‘ _Bipolar disorder_ ’ were some of the things he mentioned when he tried to equate a solid enough foundation for Louis to understand the basis of Harry’s ‘illness’. Louis listened as he chose his wording carefully, trying to define his issues under a collective umbrella, to state what his issue was in one sentence. But he was quick to look conflicted, almost tearful as he admitted Harry’s indispositions were vast and was impossible to cover in one sitting.

“At the end of the day I need you to know Louis, he is not of a sound mind. Not for ninety percent of the time. And all his crimes were committed because of this. No amount of the therapy my dear Anne and I put him through worked, no medication, no intervention. It got worse after Anne passed, that’s when he reached his most violent time, murderous, if you please, the only option was to restrain him.”

“To put it simply, Ivan, my dear friend and high court Judge agreed to house arrest. He listened to me, he sat with me and he listened. It wasn’t easy, I can tell you that. I had to pay a substantial amount of money and it took months for it to become official but when it was I was so relieved.” Des acknowledged the cup of coffee that was placed on the coffee table for him by Niall, “months of torture, not knowing what was going to happen, finally ending with my boy being allowed back home.”

He continued.

“He is very ill. So incredibly ill and it breaks my heart to have to see him go through this pain.”

Louis ground his teeth at the comment. He gripped the mug so tight that if he were of greater strength it may have cracked from the pressure. 

“I know what you must be thinking, the pain he put you through is nothing compared,” Des reached out what he presumed was meant to be a reassuring hand to rest on his knee. It was anything but to Louis and he didn’t take his eyes off the limb. “Which again, I cannot comprehend what you must be feeling at present and I want to take this opportunity once more to thank you for letting me in your home, to talk to you, today.”

Niall started bouncing his leg. 

His thumb was being attacked by his gnawing teeth again and Louis didn’t miss a beat.

He knew this was nervous Niall at his prime. But why would Niall be so nervous about any of this? If anything, it should be him who’s nervous. Him who should be white in the face and jittery. But instead he felt numb and indifferent to the spiel that fell from the older man’s mouth, maybe slightly cautious of every word that was fed to him but nothing else.

"I can't believe you were allowed to do this, I just don't understand how any legal-" 

“-Being a medical professional myself, I know what treatment he’d undergo if he were to be sentenced to time inside. I know how they treat the criminally insane and it took plain rational reasoning to convince him. I didn’t want that for my son. I still don't.”

“He- he is nothing special,” Louis had found his voice, “why should he be treated any differently to all the other insane son’s and daughters that have been locked up for their crimes?”

“I understand your anger. But Louis I am of a fortunate position in my career, to be able to achieve this arrangement. My social hierarchy is supreme. I cannot have a son of mine sent away and treated like that-“

“His name is already tainted, everyone knows who he is - that he’s your son so… so why does it matter?”

Des nodded. He squeezed his knee before letting go and returning to his straight backed, legs crossed position. 

“You’re absolutely correct. I face judgement, shame and disgrace from the general public every day,” He shook his head, reaching for the cup of coffee, “all out of my love, my unconditional love for my son.”

He took a sip and regarded Louis over the rim. Louis felt trapped. It lasted only a second but it was too real.

Des lowered the cup, eyes back to neutral, licking his lips - full, shapely lips an exact replica of Harry’s - and placed the cup back. 

“I would do anything for him. It’s a suffering I’m willing to put up with if it means he will remain free.”

Harry’s situation wasn’t exactly what Louis would equate to freedom. But with a heavy sigh and a heavier head he nodded. He didn't agree to any of it. He was more exhausted really. The victim of a crime that had gone unjustly punished and the famous father of the notorious perpetrator sat opposite him, sipping freshly ground coffee from a mug he had bought for his nineteenth birthday, while trying to convince him to remain silent about it all. 

“Name your price Tomlinson.”

_What._

“Excuse me?”

“Your price. I don’t expect you to stay quiet merely from my begging. What happened to you was unforgivable.” Des dug into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looked like a cheque book. 

“I don’t want money, I don’t-” Whether it was for back up or affirmation he shot Niall a questioning look, “ I- why are you giving me money?”

“I explained why, Louis. Please, funds are of no concern to me so hit me as hard as you wish.”

“I’m not going to be in debt to you Doctor.”

“Des, please. And this is no loan, I owe you, not the other way round.”

“D-Des I’m not willing to accept your money.”

“Then what do you want? Name it, I will arrange it.” 

Louis’ throat constricted, he took a slow sip of his drink.

“Can you turn back time?”

“At present, it is my greatest wish to have such ability.”

He was so, so tired.

“Then you can’t do anything for me.”

 

*

 

“It’s going to be okay Lou,” Niall said, sitting in the passenger seat of Zayn’s Mini. 

“If this gets out, who’s going to be in more trouble?”

Niall shook his head, peering out the window shortly before shuffling around to look back at a tiny Louis, knees hugged to his chest.

“Not you Lou, don’t be stupid.”

“But doesn’t he bug you?”

“Who?”

“Dr- I mean, his Dad. Des, doesn’t Des make you feel weird?”

Niall watched Louis pick at the hem of his sweatpants.

“No.”

“I don’t know what to think about any of this, but I don’t think I like him.”

“You don’t have to like him, you just have to trust him.”

Louis bit his lip.

“But I don’t.”

“Louis,” Niall took Louis’ cold hand and squeezed. “This is a massive pile of fucking shit the lot of this and I wish I could make it go away but I can’t, no one can. But the truth is, Des is the only person who can compensate even the tiniest bit, for what’s happened.” Niall looked at him straight on, letting go of his hand. 

“After all of this Harry is still his son. And we have to let him do what he has to do for the greater good of his family, or his sanity or _whatever_ ,” Niall had turned around wishing he would spontaneously catch fire or a tiny meteor would strike his very position, “… even if he knows it isn’t right.”

He hated that man. But he hated himself even more right now. He’s lying to his best friend. His best friend who has been abused. His best friend who trusts very few and is hanging off every word he says.

“For the greater good of the rest of the world, he should have his _son_ , locked away. What kind of judge just accepts such major man slaughter and god knows what else on account of insanity and risks his entire career because of one single mentally dysfunctional boy and his pleading Father?”

No further comments came from Niall as the driver side door suddenly opened to Zayn holding a tray of three paper cups. Niall peered at Louis, who, as much as he wanted an answer he wanted the steaming cup of hot chocolate more.

“Did I get it right this time?”

Zayn caught his eyes through the rearview mirror. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiled down at the whipped cream and marshmallows, “hot chocolate? Check. Whipped cream? Check. Marshmallows? Check.”


	9. 9

_-Present Day-_

“Louis?…”

“…Louis.”

“ _Louuuis_.”

The familiar shade of blueish grey peeped through flickering eyelids, a sound suspiciously close to a baby dinosaur escaping his lips as he came to. 

Craig could’ve kissed him right there and then.

“Oh thank fuck Louis,” He gripped his wrist, which when Louis peered down he saw a hospital band strapped round it, “I’m awful when it comes to hospitals and unconsciousness and blood and…you know.”

Louis didn’t know. Didn’t actually know why he was laid up in a hospital bed, didn’t know why his head felt light and woozy and didn’t know why, with all the people in the world, _Craig_ was sat at his side.

“Um…” 

His face must’ve given his pathetically obvious confusion away as Craig seemed to read his mind,

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine now. You passed out at work? Do you remember? Annabelle had to call the ambulance, she was really shook up.” He sat back now, splaying his hands over his thighs. Louis took a moment to appreciate how smartly dressed Craig always was. Even now, in dark indigo skinny jeans, fitted white shirt that were buttoned to the cuffs and a classically understated leather strap watch. He looked clean and trim. Louis liked clean.

“Oh yeah?” He coughed out the stickiness in his voice, “I remember being at work, but not- not passing out.” 

He shuffled backwards so his back could rest against the headboard and thanked the heavens he wasn’t in a gown - so nothing could be that bad then. His first thought was why Annabelle didn’t call Niall, being the obvious choice as his roommate. Or even Zayn? They’re his best friends and Craig’s just a-

“Yeah man, went down like a lead balloon apparently. She said she wanted to come with you but something about a client and she couldn’t cancel… I don’t know, all I know is that Zayn didn’t pick up and Niall was busy, so he called me to make sure you were alright until he could get out of work.”

Right. 

“Oh and er, your Mum has been calling. Quite insistently actually.”

And of course she has. He suddenly wished he were back under. Who would even think to call his Mother and let him know of something like this? It wasn’t like she was around to come and see him.

“I’m thinking maybe Annabelle called her to let her know? I’m not sure.”

Louis may sue him for invading the personal space of his mind.

With a nod, Louis refrained from commenting any further. He really didn’t want to deal with that right now, Christmas was pretty bad; it was enough to test his own homicidal tendencies being in her presence for longer than an hour. He turned the annoying voice in the back of his head to a simmer.

“Speaking of your Mum, how was your Christmas with your family? I only saw you briefly the other day so I couldn’t ask. Niall said you didn’t stay long?”

Which, okay.

So maybe this boy possibly could read minds. Louis snapped his head back at looked at him suspiciously.

Craig couldn’t have more ’nonchalance’ plastered on his features if he tried.

Louis frowned.

Craig frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

The boy raised his eyebrows at Louis with wide _brown so deep it looked black_ eyes.

“Are you.. okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine.”

Craig, oblivious, mouthed an okay, feeling uncomfortable under Louis’ sudden accusatory gaze. 

Physically stopping the question as to whether he had any supernatural abilities coming out of his mouth, he bit his tongue and cleared his throat. The drugs in his system doing wonders to his common sense.

“Uh, it was bearable. I only stayed the four days then came back, for my sisters more than anything.”

“I hear you.”

Louis twisted his mouth so he could bite the soft skin on inside of his mouth. It was just as the doctor entered through the curtain right then that he saw his belongings neatly arranged on the other small chair the opposite side of the bed. 

Satchel, a few books stacked on top of each other and what looked like a letter folded on top. 

It was borderline humorous how quickly the stratospheric onslaught of memory and recollection came plundering down on him. 

He remembered how his pulse had raised too quickly, how there was a shortage of air with every word, how his own skin seemed to become a couple sizes too small. How his world blacked out after all he could hear was his own heart beat and that last thing imprinted on his mind’s eye. 

Ivan.

Louis was laid up next to the Chief’s son. What if Craig had seen the letter? What if he’s playing dumb and trying to catch him out and then goes and tells his Dad about it? Why was he feeling like the guilty one here? 

“Mr Tomlinson, how’re you feeling?”

_Where do I begin?_

 

*

 

“So he stepped down from his position at the local hospital four years ago, to pursue his own private business in the City.”

Louis walked distractedly down the confectionary aisle, phone nestled between his shoulder and ear. He tried to listen to what Annabelle was saying, reeling off quotes from the website she was viewing at the other end and what sugar fix was going to satisfy his cravings.

“Yeah, we know that. What does it say about,” He looked around to check there was no one close enough to listen in, he lowered his voice anyway, “about the drug?”

He waited patiently while she hummed and scanned google and he scanned the shelves full of various diabetes. 

“…It says something here about him being acknowledged for being the founder of a drug, actually sorry, _drugs_ ,” Louis nodded curtly at the elderly lady that was trying to get past him, stepping back to make way for her trolley, “to aid recovery in brain injuries… possibly fatal injuries… it also says something about his particular interest in the brain, including mental disorders and has been working on developing certain… meh. Nothing that relates particularly.”

“- _oh god what the fuck_?”

Louis nearly dropped the phone at her peak in volume.

“Shit Louis do you have the letter to hand?”

“Uh, no I don’t I’m-”

“Louis seriously, this is weird. I’m sure I have the name right, Zygllapthrone right?”

“Uh yeah… ” Louis smiled at the man behind the counter plonking the pint of milk, chewing gum and Nutella on it, digging into his pockets for change.

“Louis there’s no such drug.”

Thanking the cashier, who was eyeing him suspiciously he juggled his way towards the exit. It really shouldn’t be that difficult to carry three items, a phone and _himself_ out the door but he somehow was making it look like a fuss, nearly dropping his carrier bag for the third time.

Hooking the bag in the crook of his arm, he now held the phone properly, pulling his hoody up his neck to shield the wind.

“What do you mean there’s no such drug?”

“Google is giving me nothing Lou, it just loads results for something similar,” Annabelle sighed through the receiver, her cat making a scene in the background, “you know what this means?”

“Spelling isn’t Judge Ivan’s strong point?”

“As much as I adore your sarcasm I highly doubt that to be the case - _Arthur stop it_ \- it can only mean that it’s code for another drug.”

Louis scoffed.

“Annie, I don’t think we’re dealing with that level of cryptic communication.”

“Louis, think about it, the fact that the Judge accepted the house arrest int he first place is one thing. But now we find that he keeps in regular contact with Des indicating they have come to some _arrangement_ ,” Louis could practically hear the quotation marks she made with her hands, “that clearly was off the record, on the down low, for-”

“I get it.”

“What if the letter got intercepted? They’d need to cover their backs.”

“I think the rest of the letter is enough cause for suspicion…”

“Well whatever. You and I both know this has sketchy written all over it. Something underhand is going on with Harry’s situation. You can’t let this go.”

“I know,” Louis rounded the corner to start on the cobble path that was his road, “but what do I do? I can’t just call him out on it.”

There was a pause on the line. He could just make out a sigh before static filled the silence for a couple of seconds. He frowned at the screen - full reception.

“Annie?”

“Yeah I’m here… Louis I think you know what you have to do.”

If he were being honest, Louis hadn’t thought about anything else. He peered up at his house, the chimney was smoking welcomingly. He sighed. 

“Louis? Lou, I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“It’s fine. If I want to send that bastard down then I have to figure out what’s really going on and it’s not like I can straight out ask Des is it?” He un hooked the gate, wincing at the sudden gust of wind, “I’ll make something up, say that I need closure or something. He did say he owes me after all.”

 

*

 

Niall didn’t understand why. Louis didn’t understand why. 

But he trusted his gut. His intuition had always been on point so he needed to trust it. Even if nobody else did. Even if he wasn’t absolutely clear as to the how’s, where’s, whats and why’s himself he had to satisfy this clenching feeling in his gut that had set up camp ever since he was escorted swiftly out of the Styles manor that fateful afternoon. Swirling around in his stomach every time he thought about Des, every time he saw a well suited man pass him by, every time he thinks about the way the tall villain with eyes so tormented that softened momentarily, almost regrettably right before he let go.

Even if nothing made sense.

And for Louis, non of it will until he does this. One last time. And if nothing comes of it, that will be the time he will finally retire from this mystery that’s haunting him. He will continue his recovery and move on with his life. His life, that was supposed to had taken a turn for the better moving to the small, desolate town of Ritsborough.

“Louis, have you ever thought this could just be your way of coping?”

Louis emerged, freshly showered and smelling of citrus, through his bedroom door. He was in the middle of pulling a white t-shirt down his torso while hopping around on a socked foot trying to achieve the same for the other.

"You know, looking into something that really shouldn't be looked into. Maybe you're just hoping there's some reason for this instead of accepting the fact that..."

Louis' eye roll stopped him.

“I need to know the facts Ni, we’ve been through this twice already,” The sock was on, “If I’m going to prosecute, I need to know if Des needs to be taken down with him.” Louis pulled the top all the way down, rolling his shoulders.

“But you really think you’re going to get the truth out of him?”

“It’s the only thing I have.”

Niall passed him the hoody from the banister before letting out a long sigh.

“I think you’re making a big, _huge_ mistake mate, really I do. This is only going to end up with you feeling even worse after seeing that cunt again, straight back to square one.”

Louis, now toasty in his hoody paused at the top of the stairs with Niall, phone in one hand, car keys in the other.

“Are you coming with me or are you not?”

Niall wanted to scream. He wanted amnesia to strike them both. He wanted to word vomit every piece of information he’d locked up for two years until he forgot his own name. But he settled for storming past Louis, jogging down the stairs cursing to himself. As always.

“Course I fucking am.”


	10. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This site is messing with me; we're in a committed love-hate relationship. It keeps deleting stuff. Cute.

They had arrived at the address that was printed on the card Des had given to him. Some private clinic set in a tall glass building in the City about 30 miles or so outside of Ritsborough. It was a fancy place, imposing enough and exactly what Louis would team with a business man like Des.

Upon anticipation of Louis’ arrival they were told Des had taken off immediately to the manor. To put the necessary precautions in place and what not. 

The woman on the front desk didn’t waste a second of their time. After a single, short phone call Louis and Niall were asked politely to wait in the lobby for two minutes. And before the two minutes were up they were being quickly escorted by two well dressed men out of the building again, after they passed on Des’s apologies for his absence. They explained how he had to get to the house before they did, as 'he didn’t want to disappoint you and deny your request despite it being last minute.'

They were led to the forefront of the building where two blacked out SUV's were parked expectantly.

“Separate cars.”

“Separ- _what_? No fucking way am I leav-”

“You go in separate cars or you don’t go at all. That’s final.”

Seeing no logic in it but holding no real will to argue either Louis shook his head at his friend, about to retort something that probably involves another curse or four. It’s all he seemed to do recently.

Muttering about how ridiculous this entire thing is Niall ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand up in even more impossible disorder and barged his way past the bodyguard. In a rage he tried yanking the door open to the monstrous vehicle but due to it being locked, failed.

Angering him further he threw his hands up in the air. Louis knew he shouldn’t, knew there was nothing funny about any of this, but couldn’t help a small giggle that burst through his lips. 

Niall stood there, hands on hips, motioning towards the offending handle.

“Well?! Are we waiting for spring to be sprung or what?” 

Louis felt a pang of pride. His sarcasm was rubbing off.

 

*

 

He fogged up the glass with his breath, absentmindedly tracing a unhappy face in the condensation. The wind outside was so strong it whistled through the tiniest gaps even in this, probably the most efficiently bespoke built vehicle out there. 

Frozen landscapes whipped past as they thundered down the roads at a faster than legal pace, pine trees lining the edges of forests he wasn't familiar with. The white skies above cast a bright, flattering light on everything below, despite there being lack of sunlight, it didn’t matter for everything seemed to come to a cool, wintry life under it’s sanctified glow.

He didn’t remember when he decided to shut his eyes, just for a moments escape, only to play with the idea of rest before the undoubtedly stormy day ahead unfolded. But as the soft sound of tyre on tarmac had come to bumpy stop, the gentle lullaby that had kept him under for what he decided must have been the best side of forty minutes as the vehicle was now rocking its way over the too familiar speed bumps next to the public footpath that started all of this. 

Blinking his eyes open he straightened himself out of the slumping position he’d slipped into, glancing coyly at the man next to him who hadn’t for that matter, even seemed to register his stirring. Never a fan of leather seats himself - he much preferred soft and warm over tough and durable - he felt like he’d had the most sleep in this very seat than what he had over the past week. 

“Yes hello?”

Louis was in the middle of reaching for the bottle of water in the drinks holder when the driver spoke into his headset.

“We’re coming down Yuefield now, is everything ready?”

Louis swirled the water round his mouth while he listened. 

“Excellent… yes sir he’s perfectly fine… yes, okay.”

And that was that.

Peering outside he noticed that his small doodle from earlier had been re created with new condensation. But looking past that he couldn’t ignore the extensive black gating of their destination fast approaching. No sooner had Louis cleared his throat, swallowing to settle the nausea, were they coming to a steady halt as they waited for the infamous gates to grant their entrance.

Frowning at what will now be his fourth attempt at putting the lid to his water back on he settled for half a job and placed it back in the holder. 

The gravel crunched under his weight as he hopped down from the safe confounds of the car. 

“Tomlinson,” One of the security hollered at him from the other side of the vehicle, “over here.”

Louis threw a glance over his shoulder at a _still_ agitated Niall falling out the car behind, batting away the hands of the security who tried to assist him.

Supervised by the two security men that had brought him here and another two who were here already, Louis walked up what was left of the driveway. He found himself unable to lift his head, watching as his breath fogged before him, eyes glued to the gravel and eventual steps as he took each one separately. 

With an unsteady breath in, one of the twelve foot doors opened to reveal another unfamiliar face. He had one familiar attribute however. And that was the gun holstered underneath his arm, clearly visible as he stretched to open the door wider.

Louis stopped then. Hugging himself so tight, the [hoody](https://33.media.tumblr.com/3a727815fc696bb0b4f3dd9ed8fd5a05/tumblr_inline_npa2j5XbWT1sgic8p_500.gif) he was wearing clung to his petite waist.

Being within close proximity of this place wasn't going to be easy. Walking up to the towering building took all his focus and will. But he didn’t realise how much worse it was going to feel attempting to step _into_ it. That feeling you get when you miss a step on the stairs, that lurching sensation your stomach does, is what Louis has felt on a constant replay since it all happened. But it just multiplied when Des appeared.

“Louis, please.”

He appeared from somewhere where Louis couldn’t see. 

“Please come in. You two-,” Des' smile faded the instant he delegated jobs to all the men surrounding with such authority that it made Louis stare, “-stay here. Get Jones and Woodall to watch the gates and you two come with me.” 

When his attention fell back on Louis it was accompanied by a large hand braced between his shoulder blades again. Louis thought this just must be his way of comforting him. So making a small noise of obedience Louis stepped up and over the divide, the smell of old stone and weathered upholstery hitting him.

Ducking his head as he walked, he listened to Des talking about the refurbishment that they had done just after Gemma was born, before Harry was even conceived. 

So that would be the first thing he learnt today. Harry has an older sister. Why didn’t he know Harry had a sibling?

“…It was actually this very hallway that inspired the more modern Victorian features. Especially this mirror here you see,” Des pointed to the large item, although didn’t falter his swift pace past it, hand still airborne and gesturing as he went on, “Many said it was too extravagant for a hall way, said corridors are nothing but necessary evils that connect the real masterpieces to one another. But I disagree. Don’t you Louis?” 

Although his mind was largely focusing elsewhere, he found himself to be quite impressed by what he had to offer in terms design knowledge and so Louis quickly nodded his head. Because well, he couldn’t agree more. He was so enthused by the subject in fact, that he opened his mouth to comment when Des stopped outside a doorless archway and raised a hand. 

Louis held the thought.

“Enough small talk.” 

Des straightened his tie and ran a hand down it, pressing it against his torso.

“You feel uncomfortable at any time, I want you to say. We will leave.”

Niall came to stand by his side. Louis had forgotten he was even there.

Des peered at Louis one last time. It would be absurd to say the look of his face was _amused_. But Louis didn’t have time to think on it as he was being guided by that singular hand on his back once more through the arch. 

And it was then he saw the person that had seized his subconscious every night for the past two months. 

The person who had obstructed even the most innocent of his daydreams; when his thoughts are overcast with nothingness, where one’s mind should usually be in a state of mediated zen his always trickled its way back into the same memories, the same face, the same hands. 

Niall was right, he wasn’t prepared for this. But he doubted he ever really would be. 

Des cleared his throat as he followed behind into one of the several lounges this place homed. Grandeur was an understatement as Louis took a few seconds to get outside his head and appreciate what he was surrounded by. Rich, didn’t cover it either. This room dripped in the Victorian artistry Des spoke of moments ago, the kind that could only be held in such a proud building. High ceilings hung two iron, candlelit chandeliers, falling against dark wooden walls and a fireplace on the far right side standing at just about Louis’ height. 

Five _nine_ , then.

“Harry, your guest has arrived.”

That made Louis snap back from his momentary retreat to stark cold reality. 

And reality staring right back at him from not twenty feet away.

Why is it that some smiles can fill people with so much warmth and comfort, when others make you want to leave and never come back?

Harry’s was the latter.

Bringing it down to the physicality's his teeth were fine. White, straight and revealed by plump, rosy lips that curved slightly at the edges. To top it off he even has those deep craters for dimples that give him an everlasting youth. The smile in itself was a charming, quite fantastic one. But something was missing. Something in the eyes that were above. Something that made Louis want to shrink into a dark corner and scream.

He’d turned around from looking out the far window, arms crossed against his chest, biceps just as imposing as he remembered. Louis dropped the thought as Harry started walking around the grand piano in the corner. The shirt he wore boasted a horrific pattern, buttoned inefficiently, sleeves rolled carelessly to reveal a tease of his tattoos that danced up and around his forearm. How can something so hideous be donned so well.

“I - I want five minutes on my own with him.” 

Louis said it before his brain could catch up.

Harry’s attention never faltered from Louis. Emerald eyes glinting as his smirk tamed. All the remorse that Des had described, that he'd insisted was eating away at Harry from the inside out during his clearer moments was nowhere to be seen as he stood before him now.

“Alone?”

Louis cleared his throat.

“Yes,” He looked at the grown man to his side, “please.”

Niall was fit to burst. But a single graze of Des’s fingertips on his elbow hushed anything that was brewing. Looking like a caged animal, wanting to say something, wanting to rebel, he made a pointed look at Louis before reminding him that he’s just outside. _Right down the corridor_.

“As you wish.” Des said. He looked over Louis’ head to Harry for a lengthy second before retreating with Niall out the archway and down the hall. "Five minutes."

Louis let out a shaky breath that caught on every muscle as it made it’s way out. Already the tension starting to build. He looked towards that face again to find the image before had gone. The malevolent twist to his focused stare and empty smile no more. Instead he had wide and un certain eyes looking everywhere but him, chapped lips rolling as he sniffed and ran a hand through his unruly shoulder length curls. 

Louis would dare say he was almost awkward. Something that definitely, did not belong in the list that comprised Harry Styles.

He mentally rehearsed each word.

“I need to ask you something. And you will be honest when you answer me.” Louis made a conscious effort to not fidget, to not stutter. 

Harry, even from his height advantage, seemed to look up at Louis. Jaw clenching, lips sealed straight, shoulders squared. But those eyes.

He didn’t reply, just settled his line of vision and waited for Louis to elaborate.

“Your Father is known for developing a drug.” Louis flicked his eyes down to Harry’s restless hands. “I’m sure you’re more than aware of it all, I just I … does he use any- has he used, any drugs wrongfully?” 

Still nothing. Just an unwavering focused gaze.

“You owe me the truth.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheeks. He was doing fine.

He hated the way he always felt so small in his presence. The span of his shoulders, the strength in them evident even from this distance, was something Louis was trying so hard not to notice, but when he’s studying his counterpart so acutely it’s difficult for such things to be overlooked. His heart picked up. He begged himself to keep it together. 

“Pleas-” Louis bit back his plea. He wasn’t going to succumb to that, he was the one with the upper hand here, not Harry. “Harry say some-”

“-I never wanted it to happen.”

Choking on his words Louis had to swallow twice to compensate for the dryness, waving his hands to dismiss Harry’s interjection. It was the fastest he’d heard him talk.

“I’m- I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Louis please.” His voice ever low, was impossibly hoarse now, making him sound like he’d woken up from a month long coma.

So of course Louis was yet again silenced. Something about this man still made him _want_ to obey. 

Harry took a step forward but stopped when Louis immediately took four back, hand blindly searching for the nearest surface available to him. 

“You need to report it.”

Louis’ knuckles turned white with the grip he had on the mantelpiece.

Harry spoke with his hands, pointing his finger loosely towards Louis.

“Take the letter to the police and tell them.”

Harry held an air of overwhelming arrogance every time they’d met, always in control of the situation, almost mocking Louis with his suggestive smirk and assertive manner. But the Harry before him right now, was the flip side to that coin. He was all precarious motions and forlorn eyes.

“You,” Louis studied his face carefully, not wanting to miss a thing, “you know about the letter.”

There was no point in entertaining denial.

“You have the power to do what needs to be done.”

“Why are you talking like this?”

He didn’t seem to know how to communicate with the boy. Licking his lips, fiddling with his rings and constantly raking a hand through his dark hair every other second. Louis wondered if the year or so in solitude had taken it’s toll on his social abilities. Or if he was having one of his clear moments and just really didn't know how to act.

“Louis,” Harry was impatient. But hesitant. However it wasn't enough to stop him from stepping forward and completely invading Louis’ space, “do as I say.”

Louis backed up so quickly that he fell back into a large leather chair. He scrambled all his limbs so he was tucked into it, his slight build fitting easily between the two arms. 

“You- you come any closer I’ll call-”

Harry hushed him instantly, rejecting the warning by crouching down in front of the chair, holding onto the arms. The shirt that he wore gaped and from this angle Louis could see the black ink littered over his chest in the form of what looked like two swallows. There was something else further down but he couldn’t hold off from looking into those green eyes long enough to gage what.

“Please understand that I don’t want to hurt you,” Harry’s voice never rose once but it didn’t need to, his eyes did all the talking for him. They were conveying a message silently, _desperately_ , but Louis didn’t speak their language. “I would never want to hurt you.”

_Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit._

Louis didn’t want to cry. But his throat was closing in on itself, eyes feeling hot and dry, threatening to betray him. Why was he not calling for help? Why was he letting his attacker talk to him like this? How did he walk in with the upper hand and end up like this? Why did he just get a pang of something he didn’t recognise? Why was he slightly inclined to _believe_ him.

“Harry-”

His breath caught in a soft gasp when Harry moved his hand to cover his own. 

Instantly retracting he clutched his hands to his chest, fists balled. He needed to call for help. Just a simple call for help.

Harry knew it was less than a wise move. But he couldn’t help it. He could feel himself losing control already, he just wanted to touch him while he was still himself, still in control of his own will. Louis was a delicacy. Ethereal and rare and deserved more than what most could offer. He felt it the first time he saw him down by the river, then the next time where he first got to witness the pixie looking boy properly with bright eyes and a sharp tongue. It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to and it kept him at literal arms length. He wanted to keep Louis away from this, but now what’s done is done. 

He was what was good about the world and everything Harry wanted. Harry was every mortal sin and nothing that Louis desires. 

“I’m so sorry Louis…” His frown was deep and his voice deeper as he apologised, again shoving long fingers through his hair before pushing up to a standing position dwarfing Louis even further.

Said boy’s eyes darted towards the archway where he could hear a far away commotion. 

“You need to go,” Harry could already feel the ache crawl up the nape of his neck. That familiar pull that he’d soon have no choice but to crack, “please think… on what I said.”

Louis looked up through long lashes at the man before him. Harry was so clearly pained. Physically, emotionally, he couldn’t tell the difference as he looked at the vein in his neck that had surfaced angrily. 

“What’s happened to you…” Louis whispered on an exhale so gently that it was inaudible to the other party. It was so quiet he barely believed he’d said it himself. 

Harry scrunched his eyes closed, trying to contain the burn. It was happening too fast. He rubbed his temples shortly before turning around and slamming his fist into the mirror above the fireplace causing the glass to shatter on impact, the sound ricocheting off the walls of the room making the voices down the corridor silence.

Louis covered his mouth, barely concealing his shriek. He had never felt more petrified in his twenty one years. 

He thought he knew fear. Hell, he’d stared evil in the face while it violated him of his most intimate virtue. But right now he was petrified for a completely different reason. There was something bigger going on here, something that was unexplainable, the fear of the unknown proving to be realer than ever. It was weighing down the air around them, laughing at him, knowing it’s right there within his reach to reveal if he could just get Harry to _talk_. 

He dared to stand, Harry’s broad back to him now. 

He wasn’t afraid for his own safety, but for Harry's. Harry who was the evil personified that had taken advantage of him, Harry who channeled the same insanity and rigor up until his Father’s back was turned. And it hurt Louis’ head. It hurt his heart.

“Louis!”

Niall had murder on his mind when he rounded the corner like a racehorse and straight into the room, eyes darting all over the smashed glass to Louis to Harry and back again. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What did he do, Louis what happened?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” He trailed off with a parted mouth, finding it tasking to take his eyes off Harry for even a second. He wanted to understand him now more than ever. 

His hammering heart plummeted when the man turned around with a heaving chest and bloodshot eyes that were borderline weeping. Louis' body twitched, the rawest of instincts kicking in urging him forward to embrace the mountain of a man that could kill him with his bare hands.

“ _Louis_ ,” Niall's voice was serious as he tugged on his sleeve begging for his best friend's attention.

Harry looked as if he was about to break down at any given moment, the bones in his hands cracked as they flexed, a sound he knew off by heart. He was looking as broken as the mirror he’d just destroyed and Louis wasn’t sure he enjoyed irony anymore.

Des chose that moment to enter. Harry’s eyes didn’t leave Louis.

“So.” Louis could vomit at the placid look on his face, as if he expected this and was beyond unfazed by his Son’s obvious distress. “I think your five minutes are up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, so the drugs that are mentioned/going to be mentioned are made up (mostly) for the purpose of the story, because as far as I'm aware there are no drugs like this. So that is probably the only 'far fetched' (freeform?) aspect.


	11. 11

Louis was defiant. 

He is swept away so fast by Des’s men that his feet brush the ground with the effort of trying to keep up with their paces, unrelenting hands around his arms forcing him along until he comes to the small area of this enormous build he actually recognises. The lobby.

“Des!” 

Once free from their encasement he tries calling out again.

His mind is packed with the scene he was just so viciously torn from moments ago. Harry was about to cry. Louis knew he was holding back tears and he wanted to know why, he'd come this far and he demanded to know why.

_“Des!”_

Louis’ throat felt like it was bleeding after he practically screeched the name. The sound echoed down the corridor from where he’d been dragged. He shrunk away from the two men to his side, looking at him as if to shut him up. His ears pricked at movement down the hall, eyes growing wide waiting for any sign of the owner.

“Louis! _Jesus_.” Niall took his jog down to a swift walk when he saw the flustered brunette next to the shoe rack, craning his neck. 

Louis scurried up to him instantly, “Niall what’s happening in there, what was he saying, is- is he okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Niall sighed, leaning in and landing two warm hands on Louis’ tense shoulders, “Des is fine, he’s used to this remem-”

“-I meant Harry, is Harry- is he okay?”

Niall pulled his head back in disgust so fast Louis was surprised it didn’t snap off. The hands on his shoulders remained though.

“Harry’s a fucking psychopath. He’s very okay Louis.”

“Don't-” Louis started but was most definitely not going to finish. That came out too easy. He wasn't readily prepared for what was just on the tip of his tongue. 

“Don’t _what_ Lou?” Niall questioned, voice tight with accusation, completely dropping his hands. He’d caught on. Stepping back once he eyed Louis weirdly.

“Nothing, just, let’s just wait for Des - I need to talk to him.”

“Then talk.”

Louis’ blood turned thick. So thick that his heart struggled to pump an efficient amount to his organs. His head whirled at the figure that appeared behind Niall.

“I want to go back.”

“ _What?_ " Niall and Des were in unison. Des being more composed about it however as Niall was very much ready to break something. And Louis was certain that if given the chance it would be his neck.

“Not right now,” Louis said, holding up unsteady hands, “but I want to see him again. Soon.”

“There is no fucking way Tommo.”

“Niall sh-“

“-fuck off. Not happening.” Niall retorted, shaking his head. He pointed an accusing finger at him, “You’re an idiot, do you know that? He’s got under your fuckin’ skin. Do you get high off of danger or something?”

“No I just want to talk to him!”

“He’s evil. Dangerous.”

“You’re biased.”

Niall cocked his head and clapped his hands, “Well chop off my legs and call me shorty. _He - is - a - murderer_.”

Des cleared his throat to interrupt. All heads, inclusive of the security, turned to him.

“I’m with Niall on this one Louis. You will be putting your safety, my current priority, at risk by stepping foot on this estate again.”

Niall looked away. Couldn’t stand to hold a phoney interest in an equally horrid specimen for any longer than he had to. 

“Des, please. You said you owed me anything and this is what I want, whether you insist on having all this security every time I come, fine. Either way I want to come back.”

“Absolutely not.” Des pocketed his hands, jaw set. 

He was nothing like Harry, Louis thought. From what he’d figured they were complete opposties in most ways but some mannerisms were so very tragically similar. Louis despised how calm he was. How cool he had been throughout it all. After seeing his Son so beat up right before his eyes, the aftermath of broken glass, ruptured knuckles; all from such a violent outburst and nothing. Absolutely no reaction was drawn from the older man. 

Louis wasn’t having it. His confidence was in tatters and his hands were starting to shake but he pulled the fragile pieces of whatever coherent thoughts he had together just enough to form his next sentence.

“Then I’ll go to the police.” Louis would’ve regretted it if he knew that he didn’t possess that letter, the one bit of evidence that would be enough cause for an investigation against him. 

Des’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you attempting to threaten me Louis?” 

It was ice cold and cut straight through the foundation Louis just built. But it wasn’t enough to push him into obedience. Not for Des. 

“I’m not threatening Doctor, you are the one asking me to withhold something that should rightly send your Son straight to where he belongs,” Louis registered the touch of Niall’s comforting hand around his forearm, a light squeeze was applied. “So I think you’d be wise, after I refused your filthy money, to tide me over with anything else that I ask for.”

There was a collective shuffle. The several men who worked for Des exchanged glances for a brief moment before looking towards the man himself. 

Des took six precise seconds to consider his words. Those six seconds were the most painful Louis had endured.

“Very well.” Des’s eyes crinkled at the sides, shone with a light that wasn’t coming from a good place, as he offered a hand for Louis to take, “I will allow you access to my Son for as long as you desire, for whatever you desire. But it will not be without accompaniment and each visit will last no longer than two hours at most. Those are the conditions, do you accept, Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis looked down at his hand. Large, obviously strong, but showing of his age. 

_Well. That was easy._

He ignored the burn of Niall’s eyes as he took a hold of it, shaking firmly. 

It felt like something other than a deal had just been sealed.

Unexpectedly, Des tightened his grip and tugged Louis in close. So close that the younger boy had to brace his hand on his torso to stop from tumbling into him as Des leant down and forward.

“Excellent, but in future Louis I must warn you,” Louis stared at the impeccable threading to the shoulder of his suit, trying not to show how much his grip was starting to hurt, “not to cross me.”

There was a thunderous bang somewhere deep in the confines of the house and Louis jumped, yanking out of his cinch.

“But for now, I must insist you return home. Rest well and I will be in touch.”

His voice was loud and obnoxious as he went to place that fucking hand on his back again to guide him towards the door. Louis didn’t allow it. He simply grappled onto Niall’s arm like it was his lifeline and pulled him along. 

Des’s arm was left elevated slightly as he watched the two boys hurry out the door.

“Make sure they get home safe, Richard, won’t you.”

His voice was soft, genuine and nothing if not in light of a concerned Mother. But that image would be shattered if one were to see the face that accompanied it. No concern, no affection, no warmth. Just hollow eyes tracking their every move out of the door.

 

*

 

_\- One week later -_

 

“I’m not worried,” Des popped the topper to his crystal container, pouring the matured whiskey into a glass tumblr, “if the boy wants to try and befriend the person who attempted to rape him then let him. Some kind of twisted compulsion he has there.”

“But- and forgive me, it just doesn’t seem wise letting him get so close to him, so comfortable.” 

Des peered down at his phone, turning it on loud speaker so he could move freely. He made a grunting noise before taking a small sip of the burning liquid. 

“It’s not as if he’s going to be well received.”

Des began loosening the knot in his tie, his jacket was already hanging over the back of his recliner.

“Boss?”

“Harry was refreshed this morning so what,” Glancing at his wristwatch he continued, “after four hours the heavy dose would’ve settled in nicely by now. I doubt Harry will be in any fit state to be _kind_ to his naive little companion. Who knows, maybe he’ll actually get to have his way with him this time, my boy might just finish him off.” Des chuckled at the thought.

There was a silence on the line. Des didn’t like silences unless it was before 8AM. 

“Woodall.”

“Uh, I’m not sure what you mean boss…”

Des was sat now, leather squeaking underneath him as he fell back. His wrist fell limp, hung over the arm while the other swirled the liquor round the clean glass.

“What is there to not understand?”

“Harry isn’t refreshed, no one-,” Des faltered as the glass rested on his parted lips. There were several incoherent mumbles on the other side, hushed whispers sounding like they were arguing, “-yeah, I don’t think anybody has been round there this morning.”

Placing the glass too carefully on the coaster, anger rising, he glared at the receiver. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve just been given confirmation, no one has given any doses today. The last was Friday? Yeah four days ago. We thought that was tomorrow-”

“-So you’re telling me, I’ve let Tomlinson walk in there with no precautions.”

“Boss we-“

“- _You’re telling me_ ,” Des was leant forward, his words burnt as they rolled off his tongue, the heat in his chest was rumbling, “Harry is of no threat to Louis, _whatsoever_?”

Before his employee could get out any more than a choked ‘yes’ there was a long, loud beep that rang through his ear. The line had gone dead.

 

 

*

 

 

When he saw it, Harry stopped dead. Startled. Dormant at the far side of the counter. 

He was sure he was dreaming. 

He had to be because this wasn’t possible.

He clutched the punishing side of the blade in his other hand even tighter than he were the handle just to make sure. The unmistakable sting of metal separating skin proved him wrong.

Louis was naturally terrified. A feeling he’d become accustomed to when in the company of notorious criminal Harry Styles. Himself being a mere regular, mortal, law-abiding graduate student stood no chance against a worthy heir for ruler of the underworld. Although technically ‘law abiding’ may be pushing it, as if he were being absolutely honest his being here in the Style’s residence - in their [basement kitchen](http://blogkitchens.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/105.jpg) to be more specific - wasn’t really, exactly, thoroughly, _technically speaking_ legal. It’s common knowledge to anyone who knows the basis of house arrest that Harry wasn’t allowed to go beyond the confines of his house, or in this case _the lake_. Apparently. But also specific to this case, Harry wasn’t permitted any unauthorised visitors; if the person wasn’t presented before the judge and given good reason for wanting contact then they would be denied access. 

Yet here they were.

“Hi.” Louis found his voice, along with a sliver of confidence somewhere on the second to last step, where he cleared his throat and smiled weakly. 

Harry was still holding the knife. His body frozen. A kitchen towel was tossed over his shoulder, hair pulled back into a bun which only made his chiseled features more prominent, brow seeming permanently pulled into a light frown. Louis hadn’t seen him blink since he came in.

“So your Des- uh, your Dad, thought it was best if I came down here on my own.” Louis said, nodding briefly.

He felt awkward. Timid, unsure and frightfully awkward. He ran his hands along his side saddles and up to rest on his lower back. The light blue denim jacket he wore bracketed out a little, revealing his already tight t-shirt underneath and Harry found himself victim to its pull. Unashamedly he trickled his eyes down the line of this outrageous body. The flat but taught chest, his compact little waste so visible through such thin material and _tiny_ hips that were hugged adeptly by dark jeans. For the first time in since he can remember Harry inwardly humoured himself at the fact that for once, he felt like the more innocent one in the room; being _that_ pleasing to the eye should be considered unlawful. 

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” Harry spoke but remained physically stagnant, eyes now firmly back on Louis’, “not outside of a court room anyway.”

“Me neither.”

“Then why are you…” Harry wasn’t prepared for this so his brain took a second to catch up. He would’ve been less surprised if his deceased Mother had just walked in.

“I’m going to be honest, you’re not on my christmas card list.” Louis offered. 

Harry’s frown deepened. The pasta that was bubbling away the other side of the room threatening to overspill at any moment, long forgotten.

“Louis…” 

Words were slow to escape his lips, always have been. But he has never, found difficulty in _forming_ them before now. This little person had just made a joke. He had found humour in an otherwise foul situation. And it was topped off with such inoffensive character, no weight behind the punch, no intention to harm. But why?

Harry stood there knife still pressed firmly into the fresh incision, blood now dripping out of the side of his closed fist, wondering why Louis wasn’t grabbing said knife and plunging it into his chest. Why was he being so gentle when he had every right to want to reach into his chest and rip out his spinal chord.

“Did you listen to what I said to you, Louis?”

Louis bobbed his head in ratification, making his way around this side of the massive island. Whatever was in that pan smelt way too good.

“I did.”

“And?”

Louis regarded the stools on the opposite side and stopped himself from pouting. His legs were restless and needed to have the weight lifted off of them. But a sane voice tittered to him - it’d been a while - told him maybe that was too comfortable too soon. He should probably stay standing for now.

“And after an average of three hours sleep, fifteen arguments, one near loss of a good friend and too many to remember dodged phone calls from my Mother later I decided to ignore you.”

Harry didn’t get it. 

It was then however he released his death grip on the sharp instrument, barely hissing at the motion as it was lifted from the open wound and tossed the knife into the sink behind him.

Louis’ jaw dropped.

“ _Harry what have you_ -” He gripped the counter before his legs could carry him further, allowing his brain to catch up with his heart, “how did you do that?”

The blood had dripped a couple of times onto the wooden floor, mini puddles of deep crimson specked at Harry’s feet. 

“I -,” Harry wasn’t bothered by his injury, his stupid injury was inferior to the much bigger issue at stake, the one stood a few feet away looking at him like he would lick his wound better if he asked him to, “- it’s nothing.”

Harry looked down at his palm, blood had smudged and settled into the creases. He started fumbling around in the sink and looked over his shoulder briefly at the tiny person who was looking like he was in much more pain, until turning back towards the tap. 

“You can’t be here, I don’t know what made you come back but whatever it is you must reconsider.” 

Opening up the water he watched as it gushed over the cut. 

Louis surveyed his back when he started to rummage around looking for a fresh towel, muscles shifting under the tenuous material of his shirt. Something that looked like it was well worn from the two small holes at the bottom. His gaze fell and lingered on his arms as Harry turned by a fraction. Strong, solid arms that would find no difficulty in man handling, lifting him so easily onto the counter- 

“Are you listening to me?” Harry shot another loaded look over his shoulder before bending down to open a cupboard.

“Y-yes, sorry,” Louis flinched and gulped down hard on the apology. And on the flashback that had showcased itself due to letting his mind wonder. “And the answer is no, you won’t change my mind Harry.”

His name again. On his voice. There was something about the way it fell off his little tongue, the way his wispy voice gave it life like he’d never heard before. Harry slammed the cabinet door shut and started to wrap his hand with speed.

“Louis, I’m not asking.” 

So much power in one sentence it made Louis fidget. He dropped his gaze.

“I know, I just…”

Harry let his hands hang idly at his sides, two cloths secured tight around his hand to pressurise the blood flow. 

“Don’t you hate me?” Harry questioned the small boy, who was still gripping the countertop like he was afraid to let go, “anybody in your position would want me dead.”

For a second, Louis was struck offended at the fact Harry had presumed he didn’t. 

But alas, it was true. It wasn’t as though he considered Harry anything but an unfortunate acquaintance, he definitely didn’t trust him, but he also definitely held no resentment towards him. Not like he had done before the incident happened, before he had a hunch there was something more was going on. 

Louis came back to earth. It wasn’t the first time he had considered self admittance to a psychiatric hospital. 

“I don’t know.”

That wasn’t good enough for Harry. He wouldn’t stand having someone like Louis so willingly be in his presence after the act he’d committed. He wanted Louis to hate him, the guilt would drive him mad if not. 

“Then you must be seeking revenge, I can’t figure out how you plan on doing so but-”

“Harry I want to get to know you.” No one has interrupted Harry before, so it took him a moment to register this. He clenched his jaw with restraint and noted the water bubbling dangerously close in the pan just beyond Louis. “My, my therapist said it would be good for me. Said it would give me closure.” 

Harry didn’t believe a word of it. That glare was suffocating Louis.

“Your therapist.”

“Mhm.” Louis was lying through his teeth. But if there was one thing he could do well it was this. He was a brilliant liar. This was so natural for him. On par with breathing - it just happens without a second thought. It was fine. He was fine. Is that _sweat_? “She said by talking to you and being in your environment it would help the healing process. So really, you owe me this. You can’t deny me this.”

The very corner of Harry’s lips twitched. The boy’s poor attempt at dishonesty was endearing, cliche dripping with wide innocent eyes and affirming nod after he spoke. But the context of his words, the substance of his lie stopped the twitch from becoming anything more. He had caused this. Despite his defiance to tell him the truth Louis was still suffering very real pain and it was all because of him. 

“You came with pressing issues, wanting answers the last time you were here. What’s changed?” Harry carefully stepped to the same side of the island now as Louis, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would put Louis more on edge. He already looked like he was a breath away from self combusting. He stalked over to the stove to reduce the heat. 

Louis wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“Yeah, uh I mean I still think that’s weird but-” He flicked his fringe to the side, running soft fingers over it, “I haven’t like, forgotten about it but before I- before any of that I want to - actually you know what I don’t have to explain myself.” 

And thinking on it, he really didn’t.

Harry stirred the contents before turning around at that comment, the impossibly long line of his upper body leant effortlessly against the counter. His arms and ankles crossed in sync.

“No good will come from you being here.” 

“I’m under no illusion it’s going to be a Disney adventure.”

“It’s dangerous.” Harry looked down for a beat, “I’m dangerous.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You are.”

Harry stared. Louis’ tone was unreadable but the pause before anyone spoke again was weighted.

“Then why would you willingly put yourself within a square mile of me never mind-” 

“-Like I said,” Louis had interrupted him again and Harry really wasn’t used to it, “I don’t have to explain myself.” 

When it came to confidence, Louis’ had gone from zero to a solid three in a matter of minutes and all things considered that was pushing cocky. If Louis allowed himself to acknowledge the bearing of this situation, the reality of what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with then the pills that he’d took an hour ago would start working overtime.

“What about my Father, does he know?”

Louis wanted to make clear exactly what he was asking. Did he know, _what_ , exactly. 

“Know what?” His blue eyes glistened in as the sun broke through the clouds and filtered through the thin rectangular windows near the ceiling. He winced away from the sudden light and raised his hand to block it, eyes finding their way back to Harry.

“About you and your _therapists'_ , arrangement.”

Louis knew Harry knew it was a load of bull. But Louis wasn’t prepared to let it go. Not now he’d gone to the effort of maintaining the pitiful lie for all of a full minute.

“Of course he knows. He wasn’t happy about it but, there’s not really anything he can do.”

Harry hummed, seeming satisfied with that answer. Then sniffed as he turned around and cracked his back, first just a little by pushing his shoulder blades back but then all at once as he turned to the side causing a horrifying dull crunch to resonate. 

Louis hissed before he could stop himself as Harry repeated the action for the other side. He could practically feel his own spine twisting, each vertebra snapping the air out of place. It only lasted a few seconds but it wasn’t a sound Louis expected him to still be standing after making. 

“Harry what the _fuck_.”

Shortly after collecting two plates from the rack Harry all but slammed them down as he turned to look at Louis.

“Don’t do that.” His voice scolded, low and direct. His eyes were hard.

The look nearly threw Louis off balance, he ran his palm - when did it get so clammy - over his thigh before replying.

“W-what?”

As if he could transition from personality to personality at the click of a button - or crack of a bone, Louis mused, Harry went about dishing up healthy spoonfuls onto amazingly still intact plates. He tapped the remains of sauce off the spoon before picking up both steaming servings and turning around. His eyes were soft and weary again as he cautiously placed one of the plates before Louis. 

“Since you’re here.” Harry walked around to the other side and deposited a plate there too, but motioned towards the stools before saying, “You can sit there and eat, I’ll stand.”

It was as if he were conscious about maintaining a minimum of five feet between them at all times. And Louis was maybe thankful for it.

Louis decided against pushing his earlier unanswered question in favour of focusing his efforts on resisting the mouth watering concoction before him. He swallowed down the excess saliva forming on his tongue.

“I’m not actually that hungry.” Louis started but the bewitching pull of Harry’s presence all of a sudden made his objection come to a halt. He peered up at him.

Harry hadn’t even said anything. He hadn’t said a damn word and Louis was already falling over his words to summon an explanation.

“You don’t have to - it's- I just don’t-”

“I know stubborn when I meet it. You’re obviously not going anywhere and there is too much food here for one.”

“Oh- okay, um.” Louis’ will to resist was weak. He doubted it even existed anymore with Harry having managed to end the argument before it even got animated. How did he just do that? Again? How does he always walk into a room in control with this man and end up flipping it?

“Eat. It’s not poisonous.”

“Carbs are considered poison to some.”

Harry waited for Louis to skirt his way round to the other side, before stepping forward and taking his place. He plucked a pair of forks from the draw and placed one directly in the middle of the island for Louis.

Louis leant forward to retrieve it but pouted as his stature betrayed him. Torso lay flat on the side, arm extended fully he stretched nimble fingers out desperately, inching forward for the cutlery. Harry had already lunged into his own pasta, twirling it round to make a neat mouthful when he flicked vigilant eyes up towards his company’s struggle.

Extending his own arm he let long fingers drag across the top before he pushed the cold steel of the handle a few inches forward.

Harry didn’t even try to conceal his grin. 

Louis plonked his bum back on the stool with a breathy huff. The faintest whisper of pink on his cheeks.

“Thanks.” Louis uttered it so quietly, made sure to keep his head down as he started his attack on the deliciousness before him.


	12. 12

Niall wasn’t ever going to be okay with it.

“I’m here for you buddy. If I could go with you every time you went to that shit’s house then I would, but I can’t.” Niall hadn’t been in the house for two minutes, an apologetic whirlwind to Zayn and Louis who just stood and watched, “But I can be here to try and convince you to stop, every chance I get. I can be here to tell you to call your Mam back every time you ignore her calls and I can be here when it all comes crashing down and that fucking psychopath crosses the line again and I have to pick up the pieces.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

Niall stopped, holding the plastic bag of dog biscuits with both hands. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“We can’t change this, Lou’s doing what he has to do and nothing we say is going to stop him - mate you need to slow down.” Zayn covered Niall’s trembling hands with his own. Carefully, he took the bag from Niall’s tight grip and nodded ensuring it was okay, “just calm down.”

“I know,” Niall stood up, immediately riding out a wave of light headedness from the speed at which he did, “I know we’ve been through it a million times but I just wish I could protect you from the inevitable.”

Zayn made a fuss of Spok who had come bounding through at the sound of his bowl being filled, a small smile lighting up his impeccable features. 

Louis was leant against the door way, fiddling with the cuff of his sweater sleeves. He simply watched them with sombre, glazed over eyes. He was listening, just didn’t have anything to say.

“He has maximum security Niall.”

Niall retrieved his phone off the counter, “I know, I know this okay? It’s just… I don’t know.”

Louis had been on two formal calls to the Styles’ house, today will be his third. He had become somewhat distant in the past week, something about him seeming terribly off point and Niall was worried. He struggled at present to remember a time when he wasn’t even a little bit worried about his utterly catastrophic best friend. 

“Well, just, text me okay?” Niall patted Zayn on the shoulder before turning towards Louis, now looking like he was in a complete trance, “I need to get going anyway, Mum isn’t too good today so I’m gonna’ try take her out for a bit, for a coffee or something…” 

Niall patted his pockets down, checking for keys.

Louis could hear him, but had zoned out completely. His conscious mind too occupied to be altogether present in the room.

“Mhm,” He blinked slowly, nodding even slower, eyes still stuck to the same spot on Zayn’s back, “Send her my love.”

 

*

 

Harry had emerged from behind the large wooden desk, slamming quite a sizeable, dusty book that he’d obviously found from his venture, on top of the polished surface. The desk was littered with other miscellaneous items, paper stacked carelessly with various paper weights on top of the many piles. An old abacus, two pens that had engravings which Louis couldn’t make out and a large green bankers lamp. 

And now, both of Harry’s hands as he leant into them, looking around for something he’d clearly misplaced.

“I am not having this conversation.” Harry huffed out a breath, patience wearing thin at whatever it was he’d seemed to have lost as he slammed the final draw shut and resigned to grabbing said book. Harry hadn’t looked at Louis once. Not from the second they’d left the downstairs library and Louis had approached the subject. 

His eyes cast downwards, starting to look through the book letting the pages flitter past his forefinger and thumb. Still looking for something. 

“But I want to talk about it, you don’t really do small talk so getting straight to the point seems the onl-”

“-I didn’t say anything about you not having the conversation, I said I wasn’t. So please, talk away.” Harry cleared his throat and strode over to the other side of the office, where there stood three arched floor to ceiling windows looking out over the gardens. “Just don’t expect any replies.”

Gathering all but one of his extensive limbs onto the chaise lounge, he sat back, left leg hanging over the side, and opened his book. Dampening the tip of his finger he filtered through until he found the right page.

“Okay fine,” Louis rolled his eyes. Feeling proud of himself but knowing full well that he’d only dared to because he knew for a fact Harry couldn’t see. He looked down around the room, feeling very out of place, “I only have about another half hour to fill anyway.”

Naturally, he started to potter around the vast space available to him. If Harry wasn’t willing to entertain him then he’d find other distractions. He knew he could just leave, but he didn’t want to give Des the satisfaction of leaving even a minute earlier than their agreed two hour time slots.

Making his way round the study his eyes were drawn to an opulent bookcase, standing at well over eight foot he stepped back and craned his neck to try and see what was on the top shelf. Nothing. Nothing but a substantial layer of dust. Which was much the same for the rest of the shelves, apart from they were occupying several items that Louis couldn’t not nose at. 

Harry may have been reading, but precisely half of his subconscious attention was devoted to the prying individual. He knew that he was changing, he knew the signs. Being cold was the only way he could ensure Louis would keep his distance for the remainder of his visit. He just prayed he could keep it together until then.

His eyes were the only thing about his body that moved to momentarily check Louis’ position.

Louis, forever oblivious, had gentle fingers dancing along the wood, tracing the embossment of the sides while he tilted and bent his head to read the titles of the array of books. None of the authors he recognised, no names jumped out as familiar. But the next thing he saw definitely was. Located on the next shelf down - chest level to Louis - a single photograph was encased by a baroque frame, similar to the mirror in one of the hallways that Des had so passionately spoke about previously.

“Is this,” Louis quizzed, plucking the frame that had a family of four in it from it’s position. The photograph itself was in colour but something about it felt aged, “your Mu- _oof_ -“

Louis underestimated the weight of it. He didn’t expect it to be this heavy so insufficiently grabbed it with one hand, nearly causing the article to fall to the floor. He scrambled with quick hands, briefly juggling it and stepped back a couple of times as it fell into his chest and held it there letting his heart settle.

Harry started at the scene, muscles twitching to life as he almost went to get up but deciding against it when Louis turned to look at him, an apology flashing across wide eyes. 

“Please,” Harry held out a hand towards him, fingers loosely pointing, “put that back.”

“ _I’m so sorry I_ ,” Louis did as he were told, making sure to place it back in the exact place he found it. Which wasn’t difficult from the outline of dust it had left.

Harry sighed. Stared for a second longer, but said nothing and went back to his book.

Louis side eyed the photo. 

Then peered at Harry. 

“So, um is that-”

“ _Louis_.” His interruption came as a kind warning. Louis considered it to be kind. Coming from Harry, anything non physically violent or obstructive was kind. 

Louis hummed innocently, eyebrows shooting upwards. He knew that Harry wanted to be left alone after he’d pressed all the wrong buttons earlier on, knew he shouldn’t push him right now but Louis was just that curious. He truthfully couldn’t help himself.

When there was no response from the man, Louis was left with no choice but to carry on.

“I’m sorry but who is that?” He wasn’t sorry. 

Harry closed his eyes, centring himself mentally, although looking like he wanted to drag Louis by the scruff of his neck.

Louis looked back at the photo, _really_ pushing his luck as he pointed at it opening his mouth to ask who the young girl was next to who was obviously a baby Harry. He thought he knew the answer, he thought it to be Gemma, the sister Des had mentioned but he wanted confirmation. Wanted to know why he’d never brought her up in conversation.

But before he could say another word Harry beat him to it.

“Louis I think you should go.”

“What? No?”

Harry opened his eyes.

“Louis, I’m telling you to go.”

“And I’m telling you I’m staying.” Louis was growing overconfident again. He resisted stomping his foot for emphasis. He only had to scream and Des’s men would come running. It’s fine. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t act.”

Rolling his eyes for the second time in five minutes Louis glared.

“Harry.”

Harry was breathing silently through his nose. Looking calm, speaking soft. But feeling the simmering rage of several activated volcanoes for this boy was _impossible_. 

“Harry, why are you like this?” Louis was going to get him to talk and he didn’t care how unwilling Harry was to co operate. 

“I don’t want you here.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Louis looked up to the ceiling. Unlike Harry he couldn’t keep his shit together.

“For _fucksake'_ , why?” Louis repeated. Harry shot his head up at him then, eyes manifesting with the temper he was trying to keep under bounds, “it’s like everything I do annoys you. Every topic of conversation isn’t good enough, you dodge questions like the plague and you look at me sometimes like you can see straight through me.”

Harry didn’t look away. The fire in his gaze had subsided.

“Harry… come on, you owe me answers. If nothing else.”

“I just don’t understand you.” His words were placed carefully, drawn out as if he were trying to figure each one out before it sounded, hands motioning as they did, “I don’t trust you.”

That, out of anything he could’ve said, ruffled Louis to the core. Coming from the man who had laid his hands on him in one of the most deplorable ways one human could to another, inflicting injury and leaving him with emotional scarring requiring prescription drugs - something Louis despised - it was unfair for him to even _imply_ distrust. No. He wasn’t having it. Amongst his bundle of nerves he befriended the anger clawing up his spine, too prominent to be ignored. He threw any last thread of wariness he had to the wind.

“You don’t get to say that. After everything you’ve done, not just to me but to everyone else and let’s be honest - practically got away with, after everything you are and you dare to say that _you_ don’t trust _me_?” 

Louis shook his head, not able to prolong his stare any longer. He wet his lips and huffed out a laugh, turning away from Harry.

“I’m in your _house_ for god’s sake,” He held his hands out to the grand room before him, “you could literally do anything, you’re the one with the power here Harry not me. What could I possibly to do to make _any_ of this worse for you? You’re sitting on a throne of your sins and the blood and pain of your victims, thriving off the fact that you’re not rotting in jail with all the other murderers and rapists, you have it so _fucking good_ and you have the audacity to say you don’t trust me - _me_ , being one of those fucking victims!” 

Louis was teetering on being delirious. How did Harry have the nerve.

The sound of a book being smacked shut made Louis turn back around and subsequently nearly fall over at the speed of which Harry had moved from his position on the lounger to half way across the room, half way towards himself, eyes fixed on a point directly behind him.

Louis almost regretted his outburst in that split second. 

But Harry had already thundered right past Louis and straight out of the door. Done at such high velocity that Louis got goosebumps from the gush of air.

Relief flooded his veins, but Louis tried to ignore it. Those goosebumps were definitely just from the cold air. Nothing else.

He duly ignored his fluctuating pulse and for some imprudent reason, followed Harry.

To his dismay he was nowhere to be seen, long legs serving to be a blessing for quick exits. And that meant he could be gone for quite some time. After all Harry called this ridiculous manor his home and knew every short cut, corridor, cobweb and doorknob like the back of his hand. And Louis had only just managed to memorise the way to the basement kitchen to the lobby after three official visits. 

“Harry!” Louis called out, flopping his arms to his side like a small child that really didn’t want to play. “Harry you can’t just run away from me when you don’t like what you hear you know, you utter buffoon…” He mumbled the last three words, peeping behind a door that turned out to be nothing more than a storage cupboard.

Louis considered using logic. Where would Harry go? Where would he logically storm off to. But then again, general rules of human logic or society or pretty much anything conventional or normal didn’t really apply to Harry so he drew a big red cross through that. 

Then he heard it. Through the ceiling something internal had moved; the pipework or something. It was very, very faint but it was right above his head. So three and half wrong turns later he found himself in the lobby again and falling prey to the scrutinising looks from two of Des’s men who were supervising this visit. Wasting not a breath he smiled briefly, hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt, before jogging up the stairs keeping his ears trained on any noise.

When he finally rounded the top of the again _stupidly large overcompensating ridiculousness of a staircase_ onto the main corridor, he let his head fall back and whined.

“ _Harryyyy_ for Christ's sake where are you…” It was more to himself than anyone else but he huffed out a agitated breath non the less, loud enough to be considered over the top. 

The harsh sound of a door being slammed down the far end echoed and Louis remembered. Harry’s room.

An unfriendly sensation made itself known in his chest. He didn’t know what. He didn’t want to think about it too much, because much like everything else if he allowed himself the head space to mull things over for too long there’s a good chance he’d turn away, run and never come back. 

Louis came to a stop outside the door. Although Louis had been here only once before he didn’t struggle to find his way back. He raised his hand, posed to knock but paused for the briefest of moments, his own mind betraying him with a thought that made him too aware of his own tongue, aware of exactly how fast his heart was racing. 

He rapped on the door gently. The sound seemed to bounce back down the corridor. Louis nearly followed it.

But the door swung open. And Louis was taken aback with the force at which he did it, as if it were more of a flimsy shower curtain than a solid wood door. 

“Um, y-”. Louis wanted to stick his fingers down his throat and get the job done before his nerves had a chance. His cheeks seared instantly - much like every other pane of skin on his body - and his eyes _dropped_.

Harry, to Louis’ horror, was half way to naked. Topless with the buttons to his incurably tight black jeans open, he stood with one hand still crushing the door handle and the other bracing the frame looking like Louis was keeping him from something. He was impatient, his usual disgruntled expression seeming more vexed. Harry was big and Louis was more than aware of that. Louis knew that he were a creature consisting of endless limbs, acute bone structure and dense muscle. But seeing it in the very literal flesh, no holds barred, inches away from his own - extremely inferior in comparison - clothed self was quite something. And he didn’t want to give any more thought as to what that something was.

“How did you know this was my room?” Even in a riled state, his voice was luxuriously slow. If it had a texture Louis would say it were thick; sticky. 

He made note to never let his mouth hang open for such a length of time again. Not that Harry looked like he was paying a blind bit of notice anyway.

“I - I just did, last time I kind of stumbled across…” Louis rocked on his heels lightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets not really wanting to finish it. Harry didn’t need him to. He raked through his hair, the tendons in his hand flexing as tense fingers pulled down on the ends briefly.

“Don’t run away from me.” Louis’ voice was small. Everything about him in comparison was. 

Harry was growing more uncomfortable by the second, as if Louis’ presence bothered him to an unbearable extent. Without giving any warning he stepped back and went to shut the door in his face but Louis’ reflex sprung into action before his sanity could. He shot a quick hand against the wood, sturdy enough to break Harry’s action. 

Louis looked at his own hand in complete surprise. Why did he just do that? Did he have any right to do that? The answer came from the infuriated look Harry now gave as he pulled the door back open, him too looking at Louis’ arm. His next move had Louis’ poor heart ready to shatter his ribcage as rough fingers circled said forearm and yanked him into the room with it. 

Louis choked on a gasp as Harry kicked the door shut behind him. 

They were alone in a room, in Harry’s room. He'd pushed him too far. Would anyone hear it if he cried? He was throughly unprepared. He couldn’t fall victim, Louis just couldn’t let this happen. Not again. An overflow of words raced round his head at a hundred miles per hour. 

“Look you don't have to talk-,” Louis half started, looking down at the huge hand still holding him. He was desperately trying to avoid overthinking any of Harry’s actions, not wanting any form of a panic attack to rear it’s ugly head. 

“Shut up.” Harry released his grip. It was the first physical contact they’d had.

Louis was petrified, utterly out of his depth and did as instructed. Hugging his arm into himself.

“I didn’t, as you so eloquently put, _get away_ with anything.” Harry looked as if he were in pain when speaking frown sitting heavily on his brow, “I guarantee you that I am paying for what I’ve done and will continue to pay my due for the rest of my days. So if that’s the only reason why you’re here, to point such things out, to recall my wrong doings like they’re news to me, to resurrect memories and smear the blood that’s already stained on my hands along these walls to make sure I suffer then leave now. Because as much as you think you know about me you really have absolutely no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

Crystal clear eyes were looking at him, almost through him, not allowing him to escape their hold without answering him first. The straightness of his posture, the rigid line of thick muscle in his abdominal expanding with each breath, the final set to his clenched jaw all added to the overwhelming power he exudes. Louis felt inclined to all but physically bow down.

“N-no.” 

“No _what_?” Harry snapped. Louis flinched.

“No, I don’t want to make you feel bad about any- any of it,” Louis froze as Harry moved around him and collected the towel that was thrown on his bed, “… I just didn’t think it was fair for you to say what you did, that’s all.”

“Much like beauty, justice is in the eye of the beholder.” Harry spoke with his back to him momentarily, before his eyes found their way back to the trembling wreck, “ _Fair_ doesn’t exist in my world and if you don’t like that, then neither should you.” 

Louis shook his head. 

“Communicate with words, Louis.”

Louis’ blush from earlier deepened, before replying, “I’m not leaving.”

Harry licked his lips, squinting slightly at the boy in review of his answer. Appearing to having accepted it, he nodded his head once before pushing forward towards Louis, not needing more than three strides to close the space between them. 

Louis curled his toes into the soles of his shoes.

“Fine. But you will, eventually.” Harry didn’t invade his space anymore. He didn’t need to as Louis was already squirming, “However before that time comes if you insist on being here, whilst in my company you will refrain from using any of that vile language. Understood?”

Of all the requests Louis were expecting, that definitely wasn’t one of them. 

“You’re saying you don’t want me to swear?” Louis was all slack jaw and bright eyes, looking between Harry’s inky ones, the green seeming to shift as if it were liquid.

“Yes.”

If Harry weren’t Harry, Louis would’ve scoffed. Probably laughed in his face. But just refraining from pulling a face, _just_ , Louis forced himself to resign to a small frown of indignation.

“You - Harry you can’t tell me how to speak, that’s ridiculous.”

If Louis thought his eyes were of inhuman appearance before, it was nothing compared to animalistic turn they took then. Nostrils flared as a hand came up to touch lightly on Louis’ chin, forcing him to look up at him. His voice, as always, a formidable contrast to everything else about him.

“You will do as I say, Louis. You’re in my house.” The ‘but’ already forming on Louis’ vocal chord was shut down instantly. “Do you understand?”

Louis stared. His mind cast a blank, leaving nothing but undeterred focus on dark eyes and full lips centimetres away from his own.

"Answer me."

_Yes._

Louis nodded, second guessed his head even moved at all. Cast under this beast's enchantment, he registered the faintest movement of those fingers still taking a feather weight refuge on his chin.

Harry’s thumb traced a small line along Louis’ bottom lip, pulling it down ever so slightly. Louis willed it not to tremble. Willed his exhausted heart to keep going.

“ _Answer properly_.”

His eyes fluttered, trying to stop from losing himself further. 

“Y-yes.”

Harry instantly let go. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just caused his first accidental death from heart failure. As if the toxin in his system wasn’t infiltrating all sane thoughts.

Louis tried to remember how to breath and watched as he retreated into the adjoining bathroom. His jaw itching from the absence of dangerous fingers. His throat swallowing down the ‘ _sir_ ’ that wanted to follow his last word.

 

*

 

Later that evening Harry was in the shower again.

Stood under the spray pelting cold water onto his sore back and shoulders, one arm braced on the wall before him, letting the rest of his body lean into it. 

He hadn’t allowed himself to touch. Not since he hurt him. After his body was free of the evil that caused him to deliver such things he added to his punishment, to the living hell that was his life sentence. He hadn’t released himself for four months. He didn’t deserve intimate natal luxuries. Not after what he did.

It was torture. Even when he weren’t under any other influence the testosterone that had built up due to such discipline, it made his sane self just as frustrated, just as angry, just as horny. Louis didn’t even have to be there for his mind to take a salacious turn. He only had to think about innocent blue eyes and high cheekbones and impossible curves for his groin to stir.

Today had been a bad day. With his mind slowly going under, steadily being polluted, those thoughts were running rampant. Obscene and vivid and everything Harry _couldn't_. 

He was thankful Louis left when he did. Thankful he visited in the early hours and not later.

Harry hissed as he yanked at the temperature gage with force, the water turning from cool to icy. 

He braced both hands on the wall in front of him, eyes now wide open and staring down at his unrelenting, now painfully hard cock. Even with the cold water that was attacking every inch of his body it still didn’t pass. 

Harry ran thick fingers through sodden hair, water streaming over his pale skin and scrunched his face up so tight, desperate to rid the corrupt thoughts. He groaned through gritted teeth, loud and savage.


	13. 13

Niall ascended the stairs on a long drawn out breath, cheeks puffing as he took each step slowly, almost begrudgingly. He was so done with this whole situation, so fed up with Louis keeping some big secret from him for seemingly no reason whatsoever. 

The floorboards creaked as he dragged his feet along and came to a stop outside Louis’ door.

“Louis.” Niall spoke with his head inclined after knocking twice. 

After several stagnant seconds there was a soft bang, some shuffling along with some more sporadic clattering and a singular _‘fuck’_ that was too loud for it to be far away, so he stepped back just in time for a rather flustered looking Louis to grace the now ajar doorway.

“Um, yeah?” Louis was a vision of cuteness with a hoody that was probably eight sizes too big for him, loose boxer shorts and white knit socks, both rolled up to different heights. He kicked at something behind the door, scolding at it. 

“Is this a bad time?” Niall skirted around Louis anyway, patting the envelope he had in one hand in the palm of his other, eyeing the copious amounts of clothes littered on Louis’ floor.

“No, no I’m just um…,” He too looked at the mess, loosely motioning towards it. 

“Right well I need to talk to you mate.”

Louis hummed in response, unfazed by his friend’s presence as he carried on sorting through the two larger piles of clothes. 

“Care to explain this?” Niall emphasised the last word, making Louis pause and turn around with a hanger in one hand and a shirt in the other. He scrunched his nose and turned his chin up to the cream coloured envelope just as Niall pulled out what was inside.

He cleared his throat and held the thick paper in front of him, reading:

“Louis William Tomlinson, You are cordially invited to witness the Marriage of Mrs Johannah Mary Deakin and Mr Daniel Alexander McGregor, commencing _Saturday_ , March 12th 2016 at the Old Barsham House, Doncaster,” Niall paused to quickly look up at Louis before continuing, “RSVP… and yeah you know your Mum’s address, _so_.”

Niall flapped the card in the air, looking at Louis expectantly.

Expectantly being he was holding out for Louis to explain. But the latter did nothing but stare a little, something alight in his crystal blue eyes for a flying second until it was gone the next, replaced with the usual tepid lack of emotion Niall had grown used to - and quite frankly absolutely worried sick about - over the past few weeks.

“Yeah I um, I get a plus one so being so she practically thinks of you as her second son do you wanna’, I mean, if you’re not busy it’s really not that big a deal.”

“Louis, pal, this is a _massive_ deal, your Mum and step dad are getting married!”

Louis’ miniature scoff mildly irritated Niall. “He’s not my step dad. Dan, he’s just Dan.” 

“Why is this the first I’ve heard about this? It’s in two fucking weeks.”

Louis shrugged, already turned back to his clothes.

“I dunno, didn’t think to tell you really…” He was nothing but a soft mumble, lips barely moving as he spoke.

“Has this got something to do with Harry?”

Louis didn’t have the energy to bite anymore. He was past trying to convince Niall that he was okay, that being around Harry wasn’t having any negative affects on him bar raising his anxiety levels a tad now and again. 

He settled for a small shake of the head and what he hoped came out as a light hearted ‘no’. But it sounded more withdrawn, a bit too distracted to satisfy Niall’s wavering concern.

“Louis, you’ve been acting weird ever since you’ve gone there and I don’t like it. I’ve barely spoke to you in a week, Annabelle sees more of you than I do, you literally haven’t spoken to your Mum or any of your sisters in nearing a month and now _this_?”

“Ni I’m always texting Lottie so you’re wrong there. Secondly my family is really none of your business and lastly for the three hundred and seventy sixth time, nothing I do is a result of Harry Styles and everything is really honestly absolutely definitely okay.”

Niall stepped over the various items on the carpet; nearly breaking into a hopscotch with the amount of clothes obstructing his path to get to the source of his frustration. He pulled at Louis’ bony shoulder and shoved the invitation into his chest.

Louis clutched it automatically, frowning.

“Wha-”

“You’re lying.”

Louis didn’t even get chance to take in the breath to ready his reply before-

“-Louis you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on Ni.”

“Why haven’t you told me you’re getting married then?”

“I’m not getting married.”

Niall could slap him. Slap that silly, adorable little face.

“You know what I mean.” 

Louis finished hanging the two jackets up, closing his closet door before looking down at the piece of thick paper. He held it with two hands, reading the elegant cursive script carefully. 

“Well?”

“Well you’re an invasive piece of shit sometimes.”

Niall couldn’t even argue and nodded his head quite proudly, crossing his arms for emphasis.

“And you should really learn the signs that tell you to back off and drop something.” Louis said and visibly gulped, avoiding his eyes as he slotted the paper back into it’s envelope and ran thin fingers along the edges of the silver seal. 

He knew it would surface sooner or later but he was hoping that later would be the day he dies. So he wouldn’t have to deal with this. This, being his best friend about to go ape shit at what he’s about to learn. This, being the familiar lump in his throat ready to rack his whole body with the sobs he’s going to make. This, being the memories he’d about to relive that he forces back every night, every quiet moment, every time he hears his Mother’s voice through the receiver. 

“I just-”

Niall didn’t bother retaliating with _‘just what’_ although he wanted to. He was growing restless, he wanted this big rain cloud above their heads to finally lift. He wanted to know what made Louis so different, so non-Louis when it came to his Mother.

He waited, a hand on his hip the other at his mouth gnawing at the skin around his thumb. A habit born form nervousness and currently from the look on Louis’ face. That earlier stated rain cloud must come with torrential down pour and hurricane. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, toeing at his uneven socks awkwardly and Niall almost felt bad for pushing it.

“The thing is-,” How does someone just come out with it? Does he just drop the bomb and let Niall scramble around in the aftermath? Does he use the actual words or would metaphors paint it in a better light? 

It had been so long now. He'd kept it a secret for such a long time.

His chest tightened. He hated himself sometimes. 

“Louis, whatever this is it’s clearly bothering you and I can see you really don’t want to talk about it but for you to go to the length of not even being bothered about something like this,” He opened his palm towards the discarded letter on top of his drawers, “something that should be exciting and probably the best day of your Mam’s life is just, I dunno it’s just concerning man. It’s not normal.”

Louis nodded. Another visible gulp as he raised his head, looking at the ceiling still not able to make eye contact. Mainly because he was hoping gravity would do it’s job on the budding tears. Partly because he just felt ridiculous.

“Niall I don’t know,” Honesty was the only way through, nothing could cushion a blow like this, “how to tell you.”

Niall counted that as a small victory. He was right, there was something up.

“It’s all a bit…” Louis stopped. Shook his head. He’d said too much now to shrug it off.

Darling Niall, pulled with a gentle force at his friend’s forearms. If Louis hugged himself tighter he’d get impossibly smaller and Niall was afraid he might lose him, so he decided to take a physical hold on the boy and guide him to the bed, uttering about how he was alright, how he understood. Both now sitting on the edge of the mattress, Louis pushed his phone up to his pillow along with a random pair of underpants and pulled his legs up, crossing them.

“-Honestly whatever it is we’ll deal with it, I’m here for you, no one else alright? Whatever you tell me it won’t change anything, it won’t - I dunno, I don’t know what you’re fearing but I promise you you shouldn’t. ” Niall rubbed his hand on his knee, remembering how calming it was when Zayn did it to him. “Come on Lou.”

And that was enough for the seal to break. One betraying tear escaped on a blink and Niall squeezed his knee harder.

“I feel so stupid.” Louis’ voice was soft but wrecked with sobs, instantly wiping away the moisture on his cheeks only for it to be replaced seconds later, “I - you can’t tell anyone. You have to promise.” 

Even through the broken weeps he sounded desperate, serious. So Niall hesitantly agreed with a nod of his head. If it meant that much to Louis then it did to him.

“Okay, you have my word.”

Louis let go of a breath at that.

“O-okay.” Feeling even more pathetic as he hiccuped, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Mum has been with Dan for, for eight years, g-got together when I was thirteen,” Swallowing _hurt_ , he looked to Niall at intervals to check he was following, “I was obsessed with him for a good few months, Mum loved it, we got on s-so well, he loved football and started to take me to games, bought me a decent net and stuff for the garden.” 

Niall didn’t look away once, he kept his hand warm but light on his knee. 

“It was when I turned fourteen he started getting weird, telling me I couldn’t go places with certain people, insisting he take me e- _every_ where.” Louis pulled down at his sleeves, rolling his hands around in its sanctuary. He was so uncomfortable. “Mum thought he was just trying to do the _dad_ thing, had my best interests at heart and stuff. But a couple of months in and I’d had enough, it was too much, always controlling me and t-telling me what to do. So I rebelled,” Louis huffed out a dismal laugh through his nose, no trace of joy on his face, “doesn’t matter what I did really, but he was mad. He got really angry.”

Niall felt like his insides were churning. Up until now he couldn’t figure where this was going, didn’t know what Louis was trying to tell him. But now he was almost certain and if it was what he thought-

“-he got me in his car and drove me to his office in the city after dinner, told Mum he was taking me to the cinema as a surprise, wasn’t a girly film so Lottie and everyone including Mum wasn’t bothered.” Louis had to take a moment. The image in his thoughts, the memory that was burning itself into his mind’s eye was harrowing. He tried to check himself. Desperately trying to calm the sobs that had his lungs on fire. 

Niall wanted to say something, but what exactly? He wanted to stop him, tell him he didn’t have to physically say it. It was okay. Everything is okay. 

But everything wasn’t okay. And he knew that. And Niall had to let him say it, for his own sake and because he needed him to confirm it. He felt inexplicable anger in his head, an unbearable sadness pulling at his chest. 

“-he, he locked us in his office and t-told me that this was the last thing he wanted to d-do, said it was the last resort,” His palms were sweaty, but his body shivered. He shook his head furiously, biting his trembling lip as if it would help erase the sickening visuals. “He hit me. Blood was - I couldn’t move, he told me to not make any sound, j-just make it worse, then he- _oh my god_ ,” Louis buried his face in his hands, the next came out muffled but clear as day as it fell upon Niall’s ears, “ _he raped me_.”

 

*

 

_-Three days before the wedding-_

 

“Where have you been?”

Was the sentence Louis was greeted with when he shouldered off his backpack in the lobby, letting it plop onto one of the two Victorian oak chairs that sat proudly opposing one another. He snapped his head up, the iris of his eyes bluer than ever in the artificial light. He nearly lost a hold of the pizza box he was balancing on his open palm.

“I- I’ve been busy.”

Harry had stalked in slowly at the sound of the door. He was his usual broad shouldered, overpowering self, looking the picture of nonchalance. Like he wouldn’t give two fucks if Louis were to drop dead right there or burst out into an acapella version of Bohemian Rhapsody. He’d always have the same sated expression. 

“Busy with what?”

Apart from his eyes of course. Those eyes saw everything, gave everything but nothing away depending on what he wanted his party to perceive. Sometimes he looked at Louis like he was the most complex puzzle and he was trying to make sense of the jumbled pieces. Other times, he’d look at him like he is now; the electric green in them piercing as they bore into Louis like he _knew_. Like he held all the answers and was just waiting for Louis to come running. Daring him to try.

“Busy, with _stuff_ Harold.” Louis placed both hands under the flat box.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. _Harold_.

Louis had sprung his request upon Mike - the man who usually drives him to the Styles residence - last minute and he felt a little bad. It was late evening and he was probably hoping to clock off psychopath watch soon. But Louis was adamant that he wanted to go and see Harry. And if anyone asked he’d say he was bored. But in all honesty, he was desperate. Since their last rendezvous he hadn’t thought of much else and with the last week or so’s drama with the wedding and Niall, he needed a distraction.

Louis’ mouth curved into a mischievous smile, small, but testing. Being in his presence now, he realised he was still suffering aftershocks of their previous encounter. Harry’s sudden turn of personality, his jurisdiction pinned Louis to the spot that night and it was still there now. Ready and waiting to be provoked.

“Have you missed me?” 

Harry didn’t answer. Just swept his eyes up and down his body once before pushing his hair pack and walking down the corridor he’d just come from.

“Hey, wait!” Louis started after him, taking twice as many steps to compensate for not having mile long legs like Harry, “Have you eaten?”

Harry grunted some sort of response, but Louis couldn’t make it out because he was faced away and _moving so fast_.

“Sorry?” 

Harry passed the second kitchen and made an immediate right into the next corridor. He turned his head slightly to mutter over his shoulder.

“Not hungry.” 

“Well, that’s a shame because,” Louis may have jogged. He was at Harry’s side now, looking up at him a hopeful glint in his eye, “I bought pizza.”

Harry’s profile was nothing short of beautiful. Which was tragic, Louis thought. He didn’t know why but he thought the word suited as he discreetly surveyed his features waiting upon a response. From the perfect arch of his eyebrows and strong line of his nose, to the round lips that puffed out in the centre to form a perfect cupid’s bow he was a walking painting. With cheekbones high and sloped to the perfect angle that fixed the attention of anyone who dared to look, onto those terrifying eyes. 

Turns out he wasn’t as discreet as he thought as Harry side eyed him, lips twisted minutely, verging on a smirk.

“Something interesting Louis?”

His cheeks scorched to a temperature that could reheat the steadily cooling pizza in his hand.

“Nope.” Louis was proud of the lack of hesitation but blinked a few times, instantly looking away. Wondered if peeling off his own skin with a pair of tweezers would be more painful. 

Harry’s grin was short lived, but had blossomed fully before he rolled his lips and rid it. The remnants of it’s genuine mirth sparkled in his eyes for a few moments after. Louis didn’t see it as he was making a point of looking at everything _but_ him. 

“I just, I figured you might miss the simple pleasures of take out food so,” Louis was holding the box with both hands as they entered a room he’d been in the last time he were here. The library.

Harry had been reading again. Or maybe researching, from the array of books and papers scattered around.

Not that Louis supposed he had much more to do with all this time alone in the house, but it was apparent it was Harry’s favourite past time as there was around ten or there about books opened on the floor and table, some with book marks and sticky notes attached with Harry’s large scrawl on them, others just pinned open face down. 

“Are you…” Louis tried his best to not lose any pages while trying to make an efficiently sized square for the pizza box to sit on, “did I interrupt your reading?”

Harry was jumbling around with two other books, collecting them from the other side of the room when he looked up and sighed.

“Yes.” 

He made his way over to the part of the room Louis was occupying, dumping the two large books atop some others with a blunt thump, dust puffing out from underneath.

Louis formed a small o with his lips, looking at Harry’s busying hands trying to organise all the books into piles. “Oh.”

“I wasn’t expecting an intrusion at such a late hour.”

“You should be nicer to me Harry.”

He was just about to pull out a chair for Louis to grace, but his brows knitted together as his tiny companion clearly had other ideas; lifting himself up to perch on the desk his legs dangling over the side.

Harry then frowned for a different reason as he remembered what he’d just said.

“Pardon?”

“You’re so grumpy all the time, I could just stop coming you know.”

Harry wasn’t surprised at his cheek. Just endeared. Unfortunately.

“I think you know where I stand on that poppet.”

Louis froze, his jaw fixed around the tip of a large slice of pizza. His eyes bulged as he swept them as far as they would go to look at Harry. He had just tacked on a term of affection quite smoothly. Did he realise he’d even done it?

The saliva that was begging for Louis to provide food made him tear off a mouthful and start chewing. He quickly regained his composure and swung his legs, humming at the taste.

“Well, if that’s the case I might have to fill my spare time by making a film about your life,” Louis spoke delicately through mouthfuls, fingers covering his mouth as he did so, “Home Alone, _again_.”

Harry laughed.

And Louis nearly choked on a piece of pineapple.

It wasn’t a throaty chuckle, the dark haunting cackling that he’s been witness to before. Nor was it a short sarcastic snort through his nose or anything so disbanding. No, it was a genuine bubble of laughter from his stomach, that had Harry’s deep rumble of a voice carry through the room complete with a megawatt smile. 

Louis wanted to lick those dimples.

He tried and failed to push down the smugness along with his own animated giggles - he’d just made Harry Styles, the Devils’ advocate, _laugh_. From happiness. From his joke. He took another bite from his pizza and nodded towards the rest.

“Are you going to eat then? Half pepperoni, half ham and pineapple, take your pick but the latter is mine.”

Harry couldn’t deny this intriguing little human any longer. He allowed himself to linger on the thrilling line of Louis' exposed neck as he hung his head backwards and moaned, exaggerating his enjoyment of the food. Everything about Louis screamed addiction that was waiting to happen. Harry licked his lips and it wasn’t from the smell of mozzarella infiltrating his senses.

“Thank you.” Harry nodded and snatched a slice of ham and pineapple from the cardboard, earning a gasp of mock shock from Louis.

Louis giggled some more. Tonight was a night of firsts it seemed. The term of endearment, the authentic laughter and now Harry had actually just thanked him for bringing pizza into his abode. It all made him feel so infantile. He was revelling in the small victories that Louis counted all of these as. The solid iron walls that surrounded Harry and his life were slowly being broken down. 

Which made Louis stop swinging his legs. He abandoned his previous engagement from watching Harry nibble at pizza to stare at the antique rug that was occupying the space before him. 

He had his own walls. Walls that were constantly up and bolted shut with passcode security who no one got past. Until now. He’d been so invested in his infatuation with the idea of getting to know Harry, trying to get him to warm to him enough to extract information that it seemed he’d let himself go a little bit and had ignored the feeling that had been knocking at his chest every time he were here. 

He wasn’t entirely sure of his intentions anymore; what it was exactly that he was doing here. He’d gotten no information out him yet it didn’t bother him. He was here on business, nothing else. But right now, as they sat like casual friends sharing a pizza, that was somewhat the last thing on his mind. 

It occurred to Louis that this arrangement was turning out to be more of a mutual benefit. Even though he made up the whole therapist thing he couldn’t deny that his being here was soothing his fear, if you please. It was a weird connection that Louis hadn’t thought on until this moment. Louis infuriated Harry, obviously, but calmed him, almost enabled him to let go. Of what though, Louis wasn’t sure.  
_That was the whole reason he was here._

And Harry… well Harry had been Louis’ escape from Hell. Ironically. Two months ago Harry was the main player in that Hell and now, he was his remedy.

“Harry?”

Louis coughed into his fist from the raspiness of his tone.

Harry hummed, taking another chunk out of his slice. 

“Can I… can I tell you something?” Louis had lost his appetite somewhere in the last minute or so.

Now the wound had been torn back open, he found himself being pulled towards Harry more than ever. He wanted to tell him everything. 

“Anything.”

Telling Harry wouldn’t do any good or bad, really. He wouldn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t tell anyone because who is there? 

He opened his mouth then closed it again, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk and peered down at his dangling feet. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to spill all to him. His life had become such purgatory and his feelings had become muddled and he was so confused and he just _didn’t know_ anymore.

“Harry, my Mum’s getting married this Saturday.”

Harry finished his piece and dusted his hands off with a napkin that was attached to the lid. He wiped the corners of his mouth and looked at Louis. Giving him is full attention, as always.

“She’s getting married to a horrible person, a person who I refuse to be associated with.” Louis looked up, saw Harry was still staring and looked back down crossing his ankles. 

“His name is Dan and she wants me to call him my stepdad but, I can’t.”

Harry’s instincts were on fire. As if they were made from the same cell and had been split down the middle, he was in tune with this 21 year old’s emotions and could _feel_ them.

“He’s hurt you.” It should’ve been a question but it was more of an affirming statement. Stony eyes searching much softer ones for that validation.

Louis nodded. Couldn’t do much else under that powerful gaze.

He could see Harry hadn’t moved one bit out of his peripherals and it put his nerves off balance. Louis knew he was waiting for him to elaborate but was frozen with something. Maybe realisation at how stupid this confession was to someone just as emotionally unstable like Harry. 

“He abused me.” It came out anyway.

That got Harry moving. 

Louis sat bolt up right, hands braced at his sides now as the titan of a man next to him stood up, the sound of his boots clicking on the wooden floor as he rounded to the front of Louis was the only sound to be heard. 

“What.”

Louis shook his head once, eyes flitting between Harry’s. Then again as he tried to think of something to say. 

He recognised the blaze in Harry’s form, the angry vigour that had drove him to the precise act he seemed so enraged by now. The smokiness of Harry’s voice worked its way into Louis’ own throat, wrapping around his oesophagus and bleeding into his lungs, drawing them inwards.

“He’s vile a-and I just-”

“-You’ve told your Mother?”

Louis bit his bottom lip. Shook his head.

“I- tried to tell her, but she didn't believe me. She accused me of trying to split them up and,” He'd wasted too many tears. He wasn't going to lose anymore. "After the first time and she didn't believe me, he took advantage."

Harry’s chest rumbled, ebbing with short, uncontrolled breaths. 

“When did this happen?”

Harry didn’t need anymore motivation, just needed information. Didn’t want it, but needed it. He was already planning, his mind one tracked. Focused on one end goal and that was to have the blood of the man who had dared to brace a ill fated finger on Louis. 

“When I was,” Louis was caught off guard by this reaction, shuffling on the spot, “- it was when I was fourteen.”

Harry’s nostrils flared. His eyes glowering as he tried to reel in his anger. It was a futile effort.

“How many times?”

“Harry…”

“ _How_ , many times?”

Louis suddenly didn’t want to talk about this. 

“Four.” 

“Four.” Harry nodded. Adding it to the vault in his head. Storing all of this, letting it build and build until he could finally release it on the deserving recipient. “Four.”

The atmosphere wasn’t friendly anymore. Louis hadn’t expected it to be light with such a topic but he didn’t also didn’t expect this. 

“Harry, please c-calm down okay? Please.”

“Louis I can’t just-”

“- you can’t do anything about it, I can’t do anything about it. It's happened, I just, I thought talking about it would-” 

_Why did he care this much?_

Thick, long fingers ran through his hair so quickly. Again and again. He paced. Trying to collect articulate thoughts. 

Louis followed his every move, literally and emotionally on edge as one minute Harry was wearing down the carpet with his heavy footsteps in front of him and the next he was surging over to the door way. Before Louis could do anything Harry rammed his fist into the side of the extended bookcase, next to the main one that was built into the walls. The power behind the attack so great the thin wood gave way and splintered on impact. Louis launched from the desk on a yelp, called out for him to stop, he didn’t want him to lose any more control. Something he’d seen one too many times before. 

“Harry!” 

Louis scrambled from his position on the table right up into Harry’s space and in the boldness of the moment, the desperation of it, placed a hand on his bicep. 

The contact made Harry jump. Contact that was initiated from Louis wasn’t something he even considered possible. But it was altering, he followed his non intrusive hand as it trailed down his arm, every inch of skin it covered bringing him slowly back down to earth. Dainty fingers dragged along the veins in his forearm until he came to his sizeable palm. 

“Look what you’ve done.” Louis whispered, turning it over to reveal the ruptured skin on his knuckles. He’d seen so much of Harry’s blood recently it was unsettling. And it had all been self inflicted. 

“I can’t control it Louis.”

His hand was shaking. He kept his eyes down.

Louis’ shot up, all ears.

“I wish things were different. I wish- " Harry's internal conflict was slowly breaking. Why should he force this down anymore, when he could just tell him everything right now. Deal with the consequences later. "Louis what I did to you..."

Louis knew he was onto something, knew there was some sort of light that was going to be shed. It was there on the tip of his tongue.

The doorbell ripped through Harry's next breath and both their heads snapped up. Not towards the sound, but to each other. Green scorched blue as they shared equally puzzled looks.

By the time they'd reached the lobby, Harry caught glimpse of Mike through the window, charging up the driveway.

Louis didn't, forgetting that he hadn't come here alone and as if it were his place to, swung - or rather steadily pulled because the door weighed more than himself - the door open to reveal the last person he expected.

“Niall.”

“Louis?”

Louis stood in the doorway, Harry’s overwhelming presence directly behind him. His back hummed with the energy of it. 

He shrunk to the side just a little, looking up and over his shoulder to him. He was so close to him that his shoulder accidentally nudged Harry’s chest with this small movement. 

Harry braced a hand on the other door, adding to Louis’ confusion as he looked at Niall in complete disapproval. Then just beyond at Mike who was hovering at the bottom steps to keep a close eye. He couldn't intervene unless absolutely necessary.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trick or treat dick head what do you think?” 

“ _Niall_.” Louis’ eyes widened. He had no idea of Harry’s freshly riled state and Louis really didn’t want to see his friend get his jaw dislodged and dragged by his ankles down the driveway because he couldn’t curb his temper.

“Louis you should wait in the car,” He inclined his body back slightly in reference to the vehicle parked next to the gates, “I want a word with Styles.”

“But, what, why- Niall what are you talking about? What could you possibly-”

Harry was the one to interrupt him, instantly driving Louis into mute.

“Louis I think you should go, we can pick up tomorrow." Harry hated the idea of parting ways, but after merely twenty minutes it was almost impossible. "Your friend just wants to check I’m treating you suitably.”

Where he was backchat and wit with Niall, he was obedience and resigning with Harry. He looked at him, shoulder now pressed against his chest and sighed.

“Fine.” He ignored the flutter in his chest as he brushed past the solid torso, already feeling a sense of loss from the warmth it'd provided him with. He collected his bag and stopped again between the two, one foot inside the other on the concrete step outside.

“I’ll be two minutes, promise.” Niall grabbed Louis' arm as he shouldered on his backpack. 

When Louis was securely in the car and therefore definitely out of ear shot, Harry shut the door calmly, all too aware that Louis would be watching him, looking for any signs of hostility. But once the door had closed the grip he had on the handle remained. It hardened as he felt another set of eyes on him, a pair he didn’t hold any affection towards. 

“You know you’re not allowed here.”

“I’m here to call in on that favour you owe me.”

Harry was preoccupied with what he’d most recently learnt tonight. Mentally comprising a solid plan of what he would do, how we could do it, that he didn’t much care for Niall’s requests.

“This isn’t the time.”

“Oh, it most definitely fucking is.” Niall was no match physically for him. Mentally he was of kindergarten stature. But the anger that resides in his veins right now was definitely on par and he wasn’t going to let Harry scare him out of his intentions. “I need you to settle something.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Niall shook his head, took a step forward. Daring. So very testing as Harry’s temper could be _seen_. “You are the only person I know who is capable of what needs doing.”

Niall took one final step.

Harry’s hand gripped tight. Painfully tight. The need to be crushing something prevailing and he'd rather it be something inanimate. 

“It’s for Louis.”

And just like that Harry let go of the handle, tension subsiding at the mention of his name. He looked up at the blonde whippet in his lobby that had stormed his way in here technically uninvited. Their interests, for once, were aligned.


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your comments once again, are amazing. It makes me sooo, so happy to know I'm on the right track and for the most of you, keeping you on your toes.
> 
> I'm going to be honest, Louis' outfit on Jay's actual wedding wasn't a winner with me so I changed his outfit to the suit he wore for the 2015 AMAs. Again feel free to picture your preferences but that is mine and it's how I see it. Harry's is the same as what he wore, just the slightly older version.

All immediate and close family of Jay and Dan that were attending the ceremony were put up in the Old Basham House the night before. Courtesy of Dan’s Mother and Father of course.

  
Coming from a wealthy background had it’s perks, but Louis didn’t want to entertain any such thing. So during a long phone call - lasting thirteen minutes - to his Mother on the Friday morning he explained how he had an inexcusable duty at work, something he couldn’t worm his way out of. She didn’t particularly fall for it, in the back of her mind Jay knew her Son didn’t want to be around her and Dan any longer than was absolutely necessary, but she didn’t push it. After all it was his fault things were the way there were. In her eyes, Louis had bought these unfortunate circumstances on himself.

  
Louis went to bed that night with the genuine hope he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. After ironically shooting a couple of texts off to his sisters and Stan saying how he couldn’t wait to see them tomorrow.

  
_Stan: Make sure you get plenty of beauty sleep princess. xoxo_

  
He blinked his tired eyes at the harsh glow from his screen, fingers tapping out a reply.

  
_Louis: I’m not the one who needs it. Heed your own advice. Night stud x_

  
Louis turned his face into his pillow muffling a yawn, a smile followed. He stayed like that for a bit.

  
It’d been over three months since he’d last seen any of them and even though his heart felt like a rock at the thought of tomorrow’s events, their and Niall’s presence would definitely lift that weight a little.  
   
*  
   
Never has there been a morning as hectic as this. And if there had been, Louis had surely been too hungover to remember.

  
Groggy fingers snaked their way up the bed, blindly feeling around the top of the table for the offensive instrument. Clicking the button off he instantly retreated into the world of pillows and duvets, curling into the sheets, groaning because his rude alarm had screeched through the peace of sweet silence at 5:50AM. He started folding himself up in the cotton cocoon so efficiently that he was nothing but a few fluffy tufts of hair poking out the top.

  
That was until his mobile then rang to life at the other side of the room. On full volume. And vibrate.

  
“Mmrgh-” Bolting up right in bed, still wrapped up in bedding. He blinked a few times trying to wake himself up remembering why all this was happening. When he did, he cursed the overly organised side to him that was thankfully - _unfortunately_ \- in it’s prime last night.

  
Tentatively edging towards the side of the mattress he groaned again, miserable, wrestling to uncurl himself from his little heaven. He knew himself too well. He had done exactly what he’d predicted. Woken up at this offensive hour, slammed the noise into silence, forgot what day it was and gone straight back to sleep.

  
To compensate for him not staying over in Doncaster, Louis had to get up at 6AM in order to get showered, get dressed, drag Niall from his own pit - Louis was his alarm - get him dressed, check they had all gifts and suits in their sleeves and speed down the motorway for 2 hours until they arrived at the venue for 9:47 on the dot. Only fifteen minutes or so off schedule.

  
But that, in Lottie’s eyes - and in the Bridesmaid of Honour eyes - was fifteen minutes worth or hair and makeup lost.

  
His family had no idea of what’s been happening back in Ritsborough. None of them would be able to pick Harry Styles out of a crowd and Louis was quite thankful for that.

  
After enduring several mini lectures from Zayn and Niall on why it would be _in his best interests_ \- Louis rolled his eyes at the memory - to confide in what had happened to him he had produced a solid counter argument as to reasons why it most definitely wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t want the fuss. Didn’t want the questions and the sympathetic expressions. He was handling it and it was fine. He had a whole other ghost from his past to face today and that, was more than enough.

  
“Do I-” Louis winced at the brush fluffing up and over his smooth jawline, “-don’t you think this is just a bit-” he spluttered at said brush now sweeping over his lips, the bristles tickling them, “-is this really necessary?”

  
Lottie blew away the excess bronzing powder, shortly ignoring her Brother’s semi protests and Louis watched the soft particles disperse through the air.  
“Yes Louis, you want to look your prettiest don’t you?”

  
Louis couldn’t reply even if he wanted to as she had taken to patting something around his chin and continued,

  
“…plus, everybody needs photo proof make up.”

  
Louis sighed, submitting himself to his sisters onslaught of creams, balms, powders and other beauty concoctions. It would take gunpoint for him to admit that he quite enjoyed the fragrance of a couple of them, stealing glances at the name of the lip balm that smelt so good it was surely edible while Lottie carried on about her business for a few minutes.

  
“Mum wouldn’t have had to send the invitation if you just spoke to her Lou.” She said, as if addressing the tiny elephant in the room.  
“I’ve been busy, she knew I was going to come.”

  
Lottie wanted to say so much more, but decided against it. Her big eyes turning sad as she looked at her Brother. Their relationship had remained solid throughout all the trauma. She had never fully understood why he was like this. His sister’s hadn’t been told the whole truth when it happened to save from any unnecessary upset. They had no idea of Louis’ ‘apparent’ abuse.

  
“You’re still giving her away though right? That’s all she’s spoken about for past few days. She’s worried that you would refuse.” She leant over, holding her floaty peach dress away from the sharp corners of the chair as she reached for a comb, “you should go talk to her Louis. I mean, properly like.”

  
He didn’t get a chance to respond as Lottie suddenly looked ready to kill, freezing at the sight she’d caught in the mirror. She dropped the comb and stormed over to the girl who had just applied the wrong shade of pink.

  
“Fuchsia is for _flowers_ Natalie for god’s sake not lipsticks, you’re going to clash just- no, no for gods sake just leave it to me,” She was there in a flash, hands raised in warning to a rather petrified looking bridesmaid, “-here, see? Pale, bubblegum hue, this is the one I said. This is a wedding not a rave.”  
   
*  
   
Exactly one hour had passed since he’d been suited and booted, preened and primed.

  
10:55AM.

  
Louis had finished up helping set the final touches to the aisle and the chairs. The venue may be traditional and grand but the ceremony itself held a much more modern air, with pure polycarbonate transparent chairs, all lined up with military precision. Hydrangeas lined the edges of the walkway and scattered sporadically amongst the seating. The area where the Bride and Groom were to be wed was an understated affair; off-white tulle draped over the gazebo, ivory and green vines winding and hanging down at intervals.

  
It was all very elegant. Simple. Louis thought how unfortunate it all was, his internal conflict of wanting to put his designer heart into action and not really giving two hoots about this occasion itched throughout.

  
He was in the middle of admiring the little details on one of the fifty two name cards, when he stood back at the top of the aisle, craning his neck to look at the blossom from the trees that were towering overheard.

  
He regarded this post card worthy scene with a small smile, fiddling distractedly with his boutonnière. His Mother’s taste never falters.

  
It was an hour until the ceremony. Precisely sixty minutes until he had to plaster on his best fake smile, force his most sincere congratulations and give his Mother away to a beast donning a beauty’s skin.

  
As if almost on cue, Dan appeared at the other end of the runway with a couple of his groomsmen. They hadn’t noticed him at the other end and seemed entirely too involved in their own chit chat. He looked smart. In a grey dress tuxedo with matching flowers as his groomsmen, clipped proudly on his chest. If Louis didn’t know any better he would say he looked like the most charming, wonderful man alive, fit for a prince. Skin glowing, hair clipped, a smile that must hurt it was so wide.

  
Alas, not everything that glitters is gold.

  
Louis slipped behind the wide trunk of the tree to his left and padded down the steps in an escape. The last thing he wanted was for Dan to spot him and for the sake of up keeping appearances, come over and strike up a conversation.

  
Once he was at the bottom of the stairs he took the long way around to get back into the building, rounding a pillar he reached for a door handle and let out a breath at what or rather who, he saw inside.

  
He flung it open, sparkling persona in check and hollered out,

  
_“The man with a plan!”_

  
Able to recognise that high pitch squawk anywhere, Stan turned around mid conversation and opened his arms.

  
“Loueh, loueh, Loueh, _Loueehhhhh_!”

  
Louis was promptly swept up, arms flung around his waist and swung round besides his objection. He didn’t really mind though, he was quite overwhelmed with how much he’d missed this dork. Stan placed him down and smacked an alrighty kiss on his cheekbone.

  
“So that’s why I haven’t seen you!” He motioned to Louis’ attire, “Been walking around looking all gorgeous flirting with the groomsmen I bet.” Stan winked, pulling his head into him, hand patting his cheek playfully.

  
Louis privately felt sick at such a thought.

  
“Well, I mean keep it quiet won’t you?” Louis was already tired at laughing through the pain, quickly changed the subject, “Do we have any alcohol left?”

  
His banter had to be on spec. He had to snap out of it. Louis didn’t want anything to ruin this day. He was looking forward to getting through it smoothly, see his Mum looking the most blissful she’s ever looked, toast to her happily ever after and get so drunk he’ll pass out in a fountain somewhere and hopefully wake up with no memory of the last ten years. Wouldn’t that be lovely.

  
He’d been floating around talking to all the guests for half an hour now. Being the Bride’s Son he was a popular token and everyone had something to say to him. He took a second out, making his way back to a loose looking Stan, to give himself credit for holding it together thus far. Not much longer now.  
“Have you seen Niall?” Louis came up behind him, the softest of touch on his back one could almost miss it.

  
Stan swung around just about to take a sip from his flute glass, half full of champagne and shook his head.

  
“Nah mate not for like half an hour or summat’, saw him bumbling around with some people earlier but then I lost him, poof.”

  
Great. Niall, ever the socialite, had gone off swanning around with a new group of friends, abandoning him at the last place on earth he wanted to be.  
"How's his Mum anyway? Forgot to ask."

  
"She's actually really good, yeah I don't want to talk too soon but things are looking up." Louis nodded, feeling a little pang of sorrow when he thought of her situation.

  
Stan nodded, taking another sip of his drink.

  
“Oh okay wait, waaait, forget the groomsmen,” Stan pressed the back of the hand that was holding the champagne to his mouth, concealing another hiccup, “I know who you’ve really been flirting with all this time.”

  
Stan giggled, pointed an index finger somewhere past Louis.

  
“Yeah you realise I was actually joking-”

  
Stan nodded his head in the same direction, “You’ll wish you wasn’t when you see this beauty.”

  
Louis hung his head to the side. Decided to humour his idiotic friend’s game and turned around to see whatever punch line was waiting to happen.

  
Except there wasn’t a punch line.

  
And Stan wasn’t being an idiot.

  
Pulling the glass door close behind him across the opposite end of the room, a vision of tailored luxury in all black, was the other reason for his constant level of anxiety. The other half of his life’s woe. The half he thought he’d left in Ritsborough. Harry Styles.

  
“Just your type isn’t he?” Stan, oblivious, pushed on, nearly falling over with how far he was leant into Louis looking at his expression then back to the guy, “I’m right aren’t I? See, what do I _always_ say? I know people better than they know themselves.”

  
Louis thought all his efforts to maintain his faux care free demeanour would’ve become fruitless and transparent as hell if he’d have been facing the other way at the point. Stan was a wave of giggles and ‘told you so’s’ behind him but Louis couldn’t quite move yet to shush him. Didn’t trust himself to even exhale without it coming out as a scream.

  
“Not possible…” It wasn’t audible to anyone but himself.

  
All he could do was stare.

  
And inwardly kick himself at how he’d forgotten his pills on the way out this morning.

  
Looking every bit the fucking model, like he’d literally been brought to life from a magazine - Louis ignored the voice that suggested maybe that magazine could’ve been a _top shelf boys only_ magazine - he pushed through the crowd effortlessly. Heads turning as he went.

“I’m just going to-” Louis cleared the dry whisper that was his stupid voice, “I actually think I know that guy.”

  
Stan’s laugh was caught in his throat as he stared open mouthed at his confident turned flustered friend.

  
“Ohh no you don’t, you are not going to run off and hook up with some random guy at your Mum’s wedding, no, you’re going to have some class about yourself and at least introduce him to me first, best friend’s approval and that-”

  
“ _Stan no_.” Louis shot around at him, realising that his reply may have been a little too on the wrong side of casual. Said party raised his eyebrows, “I mean, I don’t think I’m going to be hooking up with anyone do you?”

  
“Oh yeah,” His eye roll was mocking, “I sometimes forget you’re still a teeny tiny virgin.”

  
His heart thrummed at the statement.

  
Louis could’ve punched himself as clearly his face was reflecting his every damn thought and Stan read him with ease.

  
“Wait, are you- you’re still?”

  
“What?”

  
“Well you know, you’ve been away for ten months now a lot can happ-”

“ _Oh_ right no, _yes_ I mean- yes. Of course I am.”

  
“Right.”

  
Louis nodded. Sealed the conversation at that. Turned his body and pointed behind him.

  
“So I’ll just- ”

  
“Hi.” Stan’s grin couldn’t have been wider, more brighter or more shit eating if he tried, as he beamed at the person who had just come up close behind Louis.  
Louis turned fully to look and his heart did the thing again.

  
Was it possible for someone who logically, _biologically_ , couldn’t get any more attractive than they already were, do exactly that in a matter of days. Maybe it was the change of location - seeing him outside of the usual rustic interior. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the dream-like, unrealistic mess that was Louis’ current state playing games with him.

  
Maybe, Louis didn’t care.

  
He trailed his eyes down the God that stood before him. One, continuous long line of clean, deep, black. Black boots with silver buckling detail, black dress pants, matching black suit jacket, black shirt - again Louis wondered why he even bothered wearing one at all - black fedora and a black scarf with white paisley detailing cloaked around his neck hanging open along his lapels.

  
Harry removed his sunglasses, even they were black.

  
“Louis.” Harry’s eyes were on Stan, but his rumble of a voice gave home to his name. Those eyes held their usual antagonistic glare, but this time were distracted. His voice was different. Louis’ stomach was a somersaulting gymnast.

  
_What the fuck was he doing here. What the fuck was he doing here. What the fuck-_

“Ha- uh, um,” Excellent Tomlinson. “What are you doing here?”

  
Louis placed a hand on his stomach, finding some sort of anchor to stop the trembling.

  
Harry had licked his lips too many times, rolled them too hard.

  
He was looking at Louis with blown pupils like he needed him to listen, needed _him_. He was nervous. Harry being any kind of unsettled should cause nationwide panic.

  
“-name’s Stan.” Plucking what would be his third glass of bubbly off the tray that had just passed, the brunette threw out a steady hand despite his inebriation.  
Harry looked down at it, brow etched into that frown Louis had come to quite adore but right now found anything but charming.

  
Eyes that were too wild bore into the limb then back to it’s owner as if offended by the offering. Louis was looking at his hand too. Not because he wanted to, just to check that he still owned ruling over his own actions.

  
Harry didn’t have the time for niceties. His hands still buzzed, body still vexed from what had happened to be anything but blunt. He was coming down off a sickening high and needed to make sure Louis was okay, needed to warn him the best way he knew how.

  
_Louis_. His only focus.

  
Harry knew that he was going to have a lot to deal with any moment now so didn’t want to upset him anymore by being his typical broody self. It was so forced, painful, but he plastered on feigned interest and took his hand, in a firm and heavy shake.

  
“Good grip there constable.” Stan nodded back, smile hazy as he clicked his head to the side looking at the exposed skin of Harry’s chest, “You know, it’s nice to meet someone who is as devoted as I am to achieving the optimum male physique.”

  
And alright. Okay.

  
That ripped the rug right from underneath Louis’ feet.

  
“Stan!” Louis turned to his tipsy friend, placing both his hands on his waist guiding him away from a confused looking Harry, “I need you to go to Martin.”  
“M-martin?” Stan hiccuped, again.

  
“Yeah, Martin. He said he was looking for you. I think he’s just over there… by the water fountain?”

  
“Oh, oh yeah I see him. What did he-” Stan trailed off when he saw Louis’ attention was elsewhere.

  
Louis quickly looked back towards him. Harry was burning a hole in his back.

“-I don’t know, but he said it was important. I’ll see you at the ceremony, go, _go_.”

  
He shooed him off, not even waiting to see if he were headed in the right direction and jogged back up to the six foot tall affliction.

“How the f-” Louis drew out the consonant, simmered his voice, suddenly hyper aware of Harry’s pre warning, “- _fiddlesticks_ did you get here?”

  
He ran a still shaking hand through his hair, dishevelling it a little. If Lottie saw him now she’d go nuts.

  
“Louis,” Harry’s hands twitched forward as if to secure some sort of hold on him, but thought better of it leaving them awkwardly airborne, sunglasses dangling, “are you alright?”

  
Louis was on constant watch, checking around them to see if anyone was looking. He prayed everyone was akin to Stan’s condition and were too far gone to even begin to put two and two together and recognise the face of the infamous killer amongst them.

  
“You- you came all this way to ask me if I’m alright?” Louis deadpanned, heart hammering in his chest still. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Harry, you’re going to get in so much trouble, _oh god_ you’re on house arrest, you can’t do this, what if someone recognises you? You can't just leave and follow me to my Mum’s - wait, actually, okay that’s - _how did you know_ …”

  
“Listen to me, things are going to get ugly, I need to know you won’t hate me.”

  
Louis couldn’t stop the sensation of his heart dropping down several ribs, but he did stop his babble.

  
“What are you talking about?”

  
Harry was conflicted. Louis, apprehensive. He wanted nothing more than to steal him away from this deplorable event and it’s faux pleasantries, take him home and hold him captive there with him instead. Selfish.

  
“Say you won’t hate me.”

  
Everything happened so quickly after that.

  
A woman’s bloodcurdling scream tore through the buzzed atmosphere of the hall, bringing everything to a very real and very sudden stand still. All heads shot outside, where the shrill sound had come from.

  
Louis craned his neck over the now shuffling crowd, gasps were drawn here and there at a sight he himself couldn’t witness.

  
“ _Louis_.”

  
Harry did grab his wrist then, roughly.

  
Louis was startled and looked between the connection and Harry.

  
Something wasn’t right.

  
“Harry…” Louis’ attention was brought to the outside again, another resounding cry.

  
“Louis I need you to understand-”

  
“-please let go.” Louis was looking at him now, shaking his head.

  
He did. Ashamed he’d been audacious enough to presume he had the right to touch any part of Louis that wasn’t granted.

  
Louis rubbed the sore joint with unsteady fingers, looking with an even more precarious resolute at the block of a man in front of him. “I- I need you to start making sense, what a-”

  
Louis got his answer in two forms.

  
The first was the the voice of one of the Groomsmen rushing past the open doors speaking frantically into the phone he had pressed to his ear.

  
“- _like a fucking massacre, he isn't even breathing, Connor is on the phone to the hospita_ -”

  
He’d passed by too fast for him to decipher anymore.

  
The second, was from Harry. He noticed something then that he hadn’t seen before. His shirt was soaked. A couple of sporadic blotches of wetness and a more fuller area along the top where it was hanging open to reveal his neck and chest.

  
Which, in turn, revealed the tiny smudge of crimson on the underside of his jaw.

  
Louis opened his mouth, eyes still stuck to that smeared mark against pale skin.

  
Harry knew he’d figured it out. Knew that right now held no chance of forbearing.

  
“Louis.”

  
“ _No_ … you haven’t, please say you haven’t,” Was all Louis’ voice would allow.

  
He looked up at the man now and wondered how he’d missed it. The heat of post hunt still alive in his eyes; a savage animal that had been starved for too long.

  
That was all Louis needed as he felt the tears prick, cemented to the spot as he did nothing but watch Harry retreat, taking slow steps backwards against the rest of the crowd who barged past in a blur to get outside

  
His life had been one annoying road hump after another, all differing in levels of impact. But this felt like he’d just been knocked into a fucking ditch head first. And now someone had paid the price. The price for Louis’ stupidity of ever welcoming a monster into his life with open arms.

 

  
   
*

 

  
   
_-Fifty minutes earlier-_  
 

  
Harry waited.

  
The sight of Louis stood alone at the end of the aisle, so small, so delicate, was a true test of his will.

  
He glanced at his watch. Any moment now. They had said he’d be outside in five minutes and six had already passed.

  
He busied his hands with the packet of chewing gum he’d stolen from a woman’s purse earlier. Popped one in his mouth.

  
Still waited.

  
Patience really wasn’t his strong point. But today he made it his goal, for Louis' sake he forced himself to wait until the opportune moment so he could do what he came here to do without a trace. If he were going to see this through properly, he had to calm down.

  
Which at present was laughable as Louis had just obtained company in the form of his sole reasoning to be here. Already pissing him off with how he’d now put him off schedule.

  
Dan and what were presumably his groomsmen from their matching outfits had appeared next to the gazebo. Hadn’t noticed Louis.

  
Good.

  
If he so much as took a step in his direction Harry’s vow of patience would’ve definitely fallen through.

  
It took a few short seconds for Louis to drop whatever it was he was holding and disappear behind the tree. Harry’s chest clenched with the loss, sighing a long exhale of resignation through his nose at the way the boy had gotten that look in his eyes of complete and utter fear. A look Harry himself wasn’t a stranger to.

  
It didn’t however, take _Dan_ mere seconds to dissipate from his friends and head back inside. He needed him inside. The ticking of the second hand on his watch could be heard, reminding him. So after popping another stick of gum in his mouth and a few mental words of restraint, he decided to wing it.

  
“Daniel!” Harry rounded the corner, his booming voice stunned the four men, inclusive of Dan, into turning around and stunted whatever it was they were laughing about. They exchanged looks when they saw Harry coming towards them with a full smile.

  
Dan scoffed a breathy laugh, accepting the hand that had been offered.

  
“Hello, er…” He enquired, wincing openly at the sudden strength in grip this stranger had.

  
“Edward.” Harry finished, let go of his hand. Visualised grabbing his neck. “Edward Hastings. You don’t know me and as much as I would love to properly introduce myself, I’m afraid such pleasantries will have to wait until the after party as time is of the essence my friend.”

  
“I don’t think I follow ya mate.”

  
Dan’s men snickered at the insulting look he shot their way, then back at the strange man dressed head to in the darkest hue. Harry surveyed all of this behind the tinted glass of his shades, unreadable. His tongue clucked with the arrogant way he chewed his gum, smirk firmly planted throughout.

  
“My apologies. Johannah has requested you return briefly to your _suite_ ,” Harry emphasised the last word, trying to put on his most charismatic performance to date, “she has a pre ceremonious surprise waiting for you and has instructed me to assist you with it.”

  
What was there to not believe? Harry had even gone to the effort of using his peculiar ability to make children adore him, to convince one particular little girl to give him the ‘pretty little bracelet’ that she had on, placing him officially on the guest list.

  
So Dan, non the wiser, grumbled something about how it better be worth it this late in the hour and after saying he’ll see them at the alter, overtook Harry on his way back into the building.

  
His attempt at small talk was excruciating and Harry ignored most of it, keeping things short and sweet as the insides of his hands were starting to itch from trepidation. Dan stopped every now again to exchange words with different guests. Harry did his best to remain in the background, maybe cracked his knuckles a couple of times from his patience becoming dangerously worn.

  
A couple of forced laughs later and Dan was swiping his key card against the lock on the door. Opening with a click, he stepped in first, leaving Harry to catch it again before it shut.

  
Another glance at his watch.

  
Shit. This cunt had knocked off too much time to make this drawn out and enjoyable. He really wanted to be a little theatrical with this one.

  
“Sooo,” Dan spread his arms out, sticking his bottom lip out at the lounge area of the room looking exactly how he’d left it, “where’s this surprise gift?”

  
He swivelled on his heels to face Harry once more, who was in the middle of removing his hat.

  
“I said there was a surprise, I didn’t mention any gift.” Harry’s usual low drawl had locked back into place, eyes hard and focused on his target. Mind finally able to cave to the darkness that begged.

  
His fingers twitched at his side.

  
“Look kid if this is some kind of joke, I really don’t have time.” Dan puffed his chest, stuck his chin up a bit. He rocked on his heels feeling weirdly threatened by the younger male in the room.

  
This younger male though, had no interest in dick measuring. He plucked the leather gloves from his pocket.

  
“The only joke in here Daniel, is you.” Harry moved forward, descended the three steps into the lounge, pushing his rings down to the knuckle. He pulled off his sunglasses, slowly, placed them on the back of the cream sofa. “You, and your morals.”

  
Dan didn’t stand a chance. Barely had time to register him moving but definitely felt him as he knocked him clean over with a solid fist to his mouth.

  
Bullseye.

  
His head hit the floor with a dull thud as blood trickled from his lips. Head spinning from the attack Dan moaned a short curse, fingers coming up to inspect the damage.

  
" _What the fuck_ -"

  
Harry was over him in no time. He knelt down, straddling his torso and batted his hand away.

  
He curled inconceivably large hands around his neck and pressed the pads of his thumbs onto the pulse points, cutting off any supply of blood to the brain.  
Dan spluttered and writhed underneath him, throwing hard punches at whatever part of Harry he could. Harry didn’t budge. Resisted the futile blows and the knees as they collied with force on his back. Pushed through the rather painful clawing of blunt fingernails on his chest and throat, trying their luck at gaining their own hold on his neck.

  
"This may get a little uncomfortable."

  
It didn’t take long for the phenomenal pressure to touch on terminal suffocation. Harry was more than well practised in the art of bringing victims to and from consciousness, edging them until they’re on the verge of it’s sweet release only for him to snatch right back out of their reach.

  
Dan was weak, wheezing, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

  
Another sickening blow was delivered to his nose, instantly snapping it out of place. Or something at least. For good measure, despite the splatter of blood that now embellished his shirt Harry drove his fist into his face again. And again and then one last time, the sound of flesh being battered and bones being cracked nothing short of a lullaby.

  
Dan coughed away the blood at his lips now Harry was suddenly off him and standing to the side, not for any other reason than his unfaithful back had pinched and he really couldn’t be bothered with the added hindrance. He sighed, rolling his eyes at the inconvenience and twisted his body until it popped.

  
“Wh-wha-” From the loose teeth, swollen tongue, fractured jaw and now definitely broken nose Dan was holding onto his consciousness by thin chords and couldn’t physically communicate with words.

  
The rage that cursed through him amplified at the pitiful attempt to speak without being spoken to. He rolled his voice on throaty growl and pulled him into a standing position by his arm, surged a foot into his back to kick him forward. His boot hit the spine at an unfortunate angle that something rather audibly dislodged and Dan fell's knees buckled to the floor on another chocked cry.

  
Harry, still having a firm hold on his forearm, didn’t have mind for this. He hauled him up, ears practically bleeding with the deafening cries and anchored him face first against the wall. Blood smearing on the clean white. He held one hand behind his back, the other being the only thing keeping the worthless man upright.

  
“Justice and revenge are two but the same Daniel, both best served cold.”

  
Dan screeched in pain as his arm was twisted to an unnatural angle so quickly that it gave way with a sickening _crack_. Tears burnt their way down his cheeks, the white hot feeling of agony searing through his upper regions.

  
“And by the time they find you, that’s what you’ll be.”

  
Harry pulled at the limp limb, wiggled it around like an animal would with it’s kill to test if it were still alive.

  
Satisfied at the looseness he stepped back, pushing fingers through his hair again. His jaw flexed harshly as he heaved the lump into the chair and let him fall, head lolling to the side as he was positioned just so.

  
There was a deliberate detachment to the violence. The way Harry sees it, this is just a physical act that has to be carried out; the only thing left that can substantially even begin to level out the wrong he did.

  
Dan murmured something, head falling to the other side on a long drawn out vowel. Sobs that couldn't be formed properly hiccuped his entire body.

  
“Shut the fuck up, killing you would be fruitless, it would be too easy to cease your existence.” Harry looked down at him, head cocked to the side.

  
“...Was it worth it? Piercing his innocence like you did." Took a step closer, "Did it satisfy your perverted desires, abusing the power given to you over someone who so obviously stood no chance of resistance. " His own words made the fire in his gut burn a riot, "Did it make you feel more of a man?”

  
Shock had hit him hard and Dan was struggling taking in enough oxygen to breathe through the excruciating pain as he suddenly got pulled back by his hair. Dim recognition hit the barely functioning part of his brain, a incoherent groan passed through his blood slicked lips, a long thick string of it dripped down onto his chest.

  
Harry shook his head and spat in his face. He pulled his cuffs forward a little and stepped back.

  
“Pathetic.”

  
Venturing into the ensuite, happy his adversary wouldn’t be moving anywhere any time soon, he started pulling open the various cupboards, tore through a couple of wash bags and nearly broke the mirror in frustration when he eventually found what he was looking for.

  
Harry thanked his Father in moments like these. He’d always been a troubled kid, anti social, angry, rebellious; a true outcast. But if it weren’t for his Father’s influence, or rather, the drugs that had been pumped through his system so viciously against his will for the past couple of years he wouldn’t be able to carry out the punishment that begged to be done. Wouldn’t be here now, dragging the tip of a pair of scissors up a man’s thigh he'd known for less than twenty minutes.

  
The drug amplified his already effervescent temper. It acted as a catalyst that converted dangerous thoughts into fatal actions.

  
“You’re no man are you Daniel. No man would’ve done what you did to an innocent fourteen year old.”

  
The tears fell, but no expression was present or could be present from his dislocated jaw. Slumped gracelessly in the chair, left arm hanging lifelessly over the side all basic human abilities to react had been knocked straight out of him.

  
Harry’s lips twitched, dark eyes drawing in on the sensitive area. He ripped his trousers down, along with his underwear.

  
“You are by no means a decent human on any level regardless of gender," Looking him in the eye, he leant a hand on Dan's thigh, voice slow, "so let’s level that out.”

  
In one swift motion, with fingers curled tightly around the metal loops, Harry sunk the sharp edge of the tool into the centre of his groin.

  
The ear splitting howl that erupted all but shook the art off the walls.

  
Dan’s functioning arm swung to life in a last ditch attempt and fisted in Harry’s suit, pulling with all the strength he could find. His voice carried on a broken guttural cry through the room, violently loud sobs wrecked his body as thick blood pooled around his groin and onto the chair.

  
Harry pulled the blade down further, the sound of flesh and muscle tearing as he dragged it over the pelvic bone, down and through the shaft of his penis. Which, as this was his first attack of such an area, proved much more difficult with it being pure muscle. Deterred Harry's effort by zero percent, instead he applied enough pressure so the blade broke through the other side instead.

  
By the time he'd angled the blade so it had semi ripped through the underneath to the tip, the fingers applying enough pressure to bruise on his shoulder had fell lax. Dan was unconscious.

  
Harry sighed, hands still gripping the metal. He chewed the inside of his cheek and surveyed the damage. Steady and composed throughout his attack, the reality of what came after wormed it’s way into his mind, clearing it of the insanity fogged there. He left the sharp instrument sticking up from the flesh - now unrecognisable as it was nothing but a spewed mess of overflowing blood and ruptured muscle - smacked his hand on top to dig them into the soft polyester of the chair below, pegging them to the spot.

  
He sat back on his haunches, wiping his hands and on the flannel he collected on the way.

  
Before leaving, he went back to the bathroom to wash his hands, despite them being covered. As he was pulling off the gloves, he caught himself in the mirror and the mess on his chest. Some of the blood was fresh, some of it already drying and setting into the threads.

  
“ _Fuck_.” Harry looked away from his reflection and stripped his top half bare.

  
Yanking the hot water open he looked at his watch. He had eight minutes until the guests would be moving.


	15. NOTE

NOT A CHAPTER

Just a note to anyone who read my last chapter. It got deleted twice, then once more when I tried to reply to a comment. Then it copied and pasted the comment I was replying to as MY comment and then deleted that. Then I loaded my chapter and the structure was completely wrong; it had no spaces, no paragraphs or anything. Therefore I would like to apologize if you read it in that terrible form, I've gone through and edited it so hopefully it won't magically disappear again or else, I quit. 


	16. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Dubious consent? It depends how you see it, but the warning's there.**

“Harry fucking Styles!”

Louis’ voice was high, but unrecognisable as it rang through the lobby and filtered down the adjoining corridors. Mike froze as he wound the car window up, looking up at the voice - audible even from that distance. Louis had assured him it was a fleeting visit only, to wait for him outside.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis repeated, slamming the front door shut with one hand, a new found strength from somewhere he didn’t know he had, “you owe me a serious explanation.”

It was two days later. 51 Hours after the event. He’d stayed with his Mother over the two nights, after spending many hours in the hospital waiting with bated breath to hear Dan’s fate. Anger fresh and coursing through his system at the raw image of his Mother doubled over in tears, choking on her own sobs at the misery that bled from her finance’s unconsciousness got him punching Mike’s digits into his phone the minute he stepped out of the shower, ignoring Niall’s pleads and demanding him to pick him up right that second.

He pushed deeper into the house.

Picking up his speed, his bare arms played host to goosebumps as he ran through the colder than usual hallways. He didn’t miss a room on his way, springing in and out of each one, in a bid to confront the brute who had caused all of this.

“Harry Styles make yourself known _immediately_.”

There was no response. No movement, no distant noises to indicate life and definitely no sign of the low husk Louis was becoming much too accustomed to. 

Slight in stature, but mighty in mind the door bounced off the wall with the clout he opened it with. His bedroom was empty and upon further inspection, so was the ensuite. 

He let out a long groan of frustration. Hands making a strained grabbing motion as he continued to search the rest of the first floor.

“I swear to God Harry once I get my hands on you I’ll-”

“-you’ll what?”

Louis jumped, annoyed that he allowed himself to be startled by the volatile male behind him. He placed a palm over his racing heart, easily felt through the light cotton of his t-shirt.

“Where the hell did you- actually, doesn’t matter.” Louis waved a hand, turning to face him properly. “Well now you’re here I must say Harry you’ve surprised me, you’re backwards in most ways but I never expected shit to come out of your mouth.”

Harry brought the door to the room he’d just stepped out of to a close, appearing much too calm and Louis really hated him.

“Excus-”

“You act like you actually _give_ a shit about me,” Louis interrupted, hands in motion when he spoke, “tell me that you’re sorry for what you did, that I don’t understand, look at me like you’re afraid I’ll fracture and fall at any moment, go raging mad when I tell you about what happened to me like- like you _care_ about how I feel, about my pain.”

“I do.”

“No you don’t!” Louis, exasperated, shook his head, “if you did you wouldn’t have done what you did to him!” 

“I did what needed to be done.” Harry was remaining so calm, detached as if they were discussing the events of someone else’s life; something that didn’t concern them.

“You’re wrong. None of that needed to happen, none of that _should’ve_ happened if you were just able to keep your fucking homicidal tendencies under control for one fucking second!”

Louis’ throat began to hurt a little, but he pushed on. 

“I had to watch my Mum _cry_ you bastard, cry because her fiancé was mangled on a chair in their fucking room in a pool of his own blood with every bone in his face revised and his spine _holy shit_ ,” Louis took in a ragged breath at the memory, the brutality of it still enslaving his senses, “-Harry you broke his back. And his, his….”

The curses washed over Harry. He expected this.

“Louis calm down.”

“Calm down? Harry you obliterated his manhood, you fucking castrated him he’s never going to be able-”

“-it was merely a puncture.”

Louis shut his jaw with a soft snap, eyebrows strung together at the abomination looking right back at him as if _he_ were the one in the wrong here. He raised fingers to his temples, the pressure building there was becoming unbearable. 

“You’re impossible… you are actually insane, y-you’re-”

“-you would’ve preferred me to stay away?”

“I would’ve preferred you to be _normal_ , I would’ve much preferred you to lend an ear when I needed to rant about how I feel every so often, not go and batter the fucking man until his body was unrecognisable you fucking fuck.”

Let it go. 

Harry needed to let it go. Louis was angry and of course was entitled to this outburst. This wasn’t normal Louis, normal Louis would never address him like this. 

“Louis, don’t you understand? I did it for _you_.” Harry stepped forward, lowering his head a little on the last part.

Louis nearly unjointed his with the ferocity he shook it. His heart was hammering, but he wasn’t going to be drawn into submission this time. He stood his ground.

“You didn’t need to do _that_ , anything but _that_.”

“You care for a man that hurt you like he did?”

The word hypocrite sprung to mind. But stayed there too.

“ _No_. He’s horrid, it’s, of course I don’t- it’s not that I-,” Louis collected his words, “My Mum. You ruined my Mum’s day, my Mum’s _life_ she didn’t deserve to have this done to her.”

“She point blank refused to accept your word when you told her about your abuse, accused her only Son of lying. That is less than acceptable and plenty a reason for me to hold the same disregard for her feelings.”

Which was a good although bittersweet point and Louis found himself unable to think of an ample reply. All he could do was repeat himself; tell him how unfair it was on her but it would come down to the same response from Harry and that paradox was something Louis didn’t want to waste breath on.

Something sparked in Harry’s mind. Eyes unmoving from the ball of rage in front of him glassed over momentarily. 

“He’s not dead.” Harry didn’t ask it, not officially. He had been cooped up in his house again ever since and this was the first he’d heard about it so it was a confirmation he was reaching for.

“I think once he wakes up he’ll wish he were.”

A silent moment of gratification washed over him. Harry was thrilled he hadn’t caused too much blood loss; he wanted the bastard to live with this.

“How did you do it?” Louis’ voice was small all of a sudden, isolated from the body it came from. It was almost heartbreaking.

Harry swallowed. 

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

“How did you _do_ it?” Louis repeated, watery eyes pulled up to the silver cross hanging around the neck of the sinner before him. 

“…I,” Harry’s head twitched to the side a bit, “thought that part was obvious.”

Louis wasn’t sure if he were playing dumb or if he really didn’t understand the question. He glared either way.

“I _mean_ , how did you manage to get out the house unmanned, unnoticed and drive all the way up to Doncaster without getting hauled straight back by your Dad and his minions?”

“The surveillance cameras were,” Here, another opportune moment presented itself for Harry to confess all, tell Louis absolutely everything and maybe allow for him to be more forgiving. But he didn’t. “…compromised.”

“Compromised.”

“Yes.”

“How?” Louis didn’t believe him, overly cautious yet again. This entire situation had took him several steps back in terms of trust yet -and quite absurdly- a couple forward in confidence.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can and you fucking will.”

Harry felt the keen ebb of irritation in his chest. Only just managing to reign it in each time.

“Louis, please mind your language.”

“How the fuck did you even know where I was?” Louis didn’t care, was past giving a toss what Harry liked and didn’t like as he needed answers. “You need to start giving me some answers you fucking prick.”

But Harry understood. 

Really he did. Just had to carry on reminding himself over and over again, that it was fine. He would allow him to let off this steam. Louis need this, he’d understand and forgive eventually. 

“I did it for you, that’s the only thing you must concern yourself with.”

“Oh for gods sake I know!” Louis threw his hands in the air, head thrown back in frustration, “you’re insane Harry, you’re fucking insane and you’re really starting to scare the shit out of me. I didn’t think it was possible to be more petrified of you, but holy _fucking_ shit have you upstaged yourself!”

Harry’s voice roared, ripped through his chest.

“ _Watch your mouth Louis!_ ” 

And Louis did. He very quickly checked himself. A fragment of reality settling into his bloodstream at who he was running his mouth at and maybe he should cool it off. He remembered Harry’s words, the ease at which Harry could make him comply and shuddered. Hating how even now, when he had every right to be furious, he still had this infuriating effect on him.

Bowing his head by a snip, Louis swallowed to soothe his hoarse throat. He eyed the vein that had surfaced angrily in his neck.

“The sooner you realise this was an act of love and not hate, the better. What’s done is done.” And by his tone, so was the conversation. 

Harry peeled off his jacket, satisfied there was no retaliation buffering. He walked straight past Louis, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends as he sauntered straight past Louis and towards a room Louis couldn’t remember. 

_Love_. He could’ve scoffed at the word. Didn’t. But could’ve.

A whiff of Harry’s scent sunk into his own skin in the brisk passing. That scent burnt straight through membranes, ignited the memory of what he did to him. Which reminded him of the pain he’d endured because of it, then the conflict he’d suffered ever since and _then_ \- well then he just wanted to break something and that something was Harry’s face.

He grabbed the nearest thing - a silver candle holder - and aimed it straight for Harry’s head.

Harry stopped dead. Muscles in his shoulders drawing back. Tight, visible through the silky material of his shirt. 

Louis waited for him to turn around to say it, begging to make it to the end of the day in anything but one piece. 

“ _Fuck… you_.”

Yes that was probably the most stupid thing he could’ve done and yes that was definitely a step too far, but Louis wasn’t playing host to sound thinking and gulped as he noticed Harry’s hand curl into a tight fist. He raised his chin, defiant in his act, grounding his heels to the spot he occupied. 

Harry had tried so very hard, not to react. Respond, not react. Allow him this, give him this space to reel.

But a fever was burning and it wasn’t going to subside, not now with Louis looking at him like that. It started in the small part of his mind that warned him he couldn’t, spread to the part of it that tempted him to try and was now surging it’s way into the muscles that tell him he absolutely must. 

Harry growled. Literally growled from the animalistic rumble that rippled it’s way up from his lungs and carried out on his already gravelly pitch.

Louis didn’t have time to fight or even react sufficiently as Harry moved so fast -always so _fast_ \- striding forward on long legs and without stopping in his progress dipped to secure Louis around his waist, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Har- _ah!_ ,” 

He thundered off with a stunned Louis hanging over his shoulder, his legs kicking out to scrambling for release. Harry simply yielded a hard forearm around his knees to stop his struggle.

“Put- _ah_ , put me down!” Any forceful act to another worked against his nature, but Louis didn’t hesitate in banging balled fists into his abductor’s back, “ _now_ Harry, put me down _now_!”

Unfazed by the futile attack Harry burst through his bedroom door, leaving it hardly attached to the hinges. If Louis could make it vibrate with his best strength then Harry could double that with his temper merely tickled. 

“You’re s- _oh fuck_ ,” He bent over to collect something from a drawer causing Louis’s stomach to flip with the motion.

The whine from when he stood upright again caught half way in his throat and converted into a soft hiss. Feeling the harsh sting of Harry’s large palm colliding sharply with his ass. 

Fisting the smooth material of the shirt that probably cost more than his year’s rent, Louis realised he wasn’t headed for where he thought. He craned his head up painfully, and watched as the door become smaller, bobbing slightly as Harry walked straight past his bed and towards the far side of the room. 

Only then, did he see fit to deposit Louis back on the ground.

He pulled the bathroom door closed and _locked_.

Still recovering from the lingering sting on his bottom all while trying to figure out what was happening Louis stood in the middle of the spacious room, the blood in his system settling back to where it’s supposed to be. He briefly looked around, dark green tiles, cold and embossed reminded him of the similar shade staring at him now, hot and just as polished. 

“It seems you have forgotten whom it is you’re speaking to.” A hand came up to Louis’ throat, Harry suddenly close and Louis not able to do a thing about it. “Your sense of manners is lacking.”

His retort got thrown to the wind as he was immediately hoisted onto the marble sideboard, ice cold and much too hard making it an extremely uncomfortable perch. 

Louis was becoming offended by all this manhandling. Or offended he was allowing it, or something. Either way he wasn’t happy about it.

“You can’t do anything stupid, the camera-” Louis flicked his eyes to the black device attached right in the centre of the ceiling.

“This room is locked. Besides, by the time it takes for them to alert the able body downstairs to get up here and find something heavy enough to break down this door I’ll be finished with you.” 

There was an edge to Harry, not an arrogance but something else self assured and _knowing_ and Louis didn’t like it one bit. He scooted back onto the counter trying to create as much distance as possible, only to be victim to a singular arm that yielded the strength of all his limbs put together, hooking around his waist pulling him back again.

“The more you struggle, the more I’ll enjoy it.” Harry flashed a lopsided grin at the small hands on his chest, one on each pectoral. He simply removed them gently back to rest atop the marble.

“But you can’t- you’re not-“

In his dark heat, Harry still knew touching him in the ways he desperately wanted to would send him running. Destroy the bond that although temporarily fractured, he’d been working hard to steadily build. He knew Louis was too involved with him now to turn back. Knew that through his stubbornness, his general objection to Harry and his ways he was well on his way to being hooked.

“I’m not going to hurt you Louis.”

But if he played it right, he could get away with one thing.

Harry dragged two fingers up the soft skin of Louis' arm, slow but full of merciless intent. Long fingers wrapped their way around the sensitive area of his neck, loose, but the power in their ability a too present reminder to dampen any fear. Louis’ mouth opened to say something, maybe howl for help.

“Shh.” It was menacing, anything on Harry’s voice was. Soothing over any words of protest on those quivering lips.

“H-arry…”

“Hush boy.” The demand in his voice was insistent, fingers tightening by a fraction as the green in his eyes transcended into something much darker. 

Harry’s hand was still taking refuge on his throat, pinning the petite brunette to the spot. Knew that if he’d dare move that single limb alone could snap the bone with the ease he would a toothpick. The other was tracing up the long curve of Louis’ arched spine and with his positioning, stomach pushed forward a little, that curve was more than inviting. 

Louis shivered, forgetting to release his breath every now and then, pushing them out at little intervals just waiting. Waiting to see what his captive had planned.

Harry leant forward, aimed Louis’ jaw just so that he could see nothing but himself. There was a hunger in his eyes, it wasn’t feral like his own, but just as starved, just as desperate. Neither could look away from the other.

There was an unspoken agreement between them. It was there and had been for a while now, Louis knew it was inevitable just didn’t want to admit it.

“Sit _still_.” Harry pinned Louis delicate wrists to his sides, again.

Louis never knew he needed this. Always was a little testing when it came to authority, forever mischievous and got off on fear - the high of getting caught. But this, this was different. This wasn’t a punishment. Felt like one, technically was one, but alongside his fear there was something else begging to be acknowledged. Something that made the fingers delicately snaking underneath the hem of his t-shirt frightfully amorous.

Lips brushing, but never enough to satisfy, never to kiss, Harry took pleasure in the hairs that had raised on every inch of visible tan skin of Louis’. 

“Always trying your luck, testing my boundaries.” He sucked Louis’ fuller bottom lip in between sharp teeth, biting down enough to cause discomfort but not to draw blood. He flicked a wet tongue over it before letting it go. “I think it’s about time someone brought you back into line, don't you?”

Harry did a fine job of averting Louis’ attention to his now slightly flushed lip that he hadn’t much noticed the tube he’d collected and placed on the side next to his position earlier, hadn’t noticed him covering his other hand in it’s lubricant and slipping it past the barrier of tight underwear now, tracing the swell of his posterior. 

Louis’ mouth hung open on a silent moan when a finger circled the taught ring of muscle. 

He noticed now, with hands back on the solid chest of his aggressor, unable to focus on anything else as that finger pushed past the unbelievable tightness and sunk into the discreet heat.

Louis whined, high pitched but restrained to the back of his throat. The boundaries between them dissolved in an instant with one fluid motion.

The hand around his throat gave way and snaked round to the nape, palm flat on warm skin there with long fingers stretching into the soft hair, pulling lightly. The new angle made it more of an effort for Louis to keep any moans quiet.

“Every time you forget your place, no matter how small,” The metal from Harry’s ring brushed against the lightly stretched muscle, having gone as far as he could. He began moving it in slow, circular motions, “I’ll be here to snap you back.”

It was instantly clear Harry knew exactly what he was doing. Like he had catalogued every sanctified spot inside and outside of Louis. 

Without conscious thought, giving into something much more powerful than his will, Louis spread his legs slightly, arched his back just that little bit more, welcoming his touch.

Methodically he shifted around inside of the contracting muscle, easing him open with a thick but controlled finger. Harry pooled all his primal desires into it.

Louis was caught somewhere between wanting him to stop and wanting him to stop teasing. Tiny, delicious sounds emitted from parted lips, pink and wet. The soft gasps he tried to stifle merged into lewd moans when Harry’s finger dragged along that spot, not allowing enough pressure to be applied to be too pleasurable just yet.

Harry twisted his wrist by a touch and swirled his finger around the small bundle of nerves. Against his will, Louis gripped both Harry’s forearms. 

“P-please…” Didn’t know what he was asking for. 

“Good boy.” His voice thrummed with power, thick and coarse and it weighted heavily between Louis’ legs. Just like the equally heavy swelling of Harry’s erection pressing against the soft curve of his inner thigh.

If it weren’t for Harry’s hold on him, Louis doubted he’d still be upright.

Still his finger _dragged_. Pulled and stroked along the inside of his innocence.

Head turned upwards, tiny gasps of intermitting pleasure escaping, Louis was lost in the pressure bearing in on a spot he didn’t know could feel so good. 

He only just registered the tap of another wet finger on his rim before it was pushing along side the other, relentless, allowing no time for being acclimatised to it’s intrusion. Louis snapped his head towards Harry on a choked breath.

“…too much?”

Too much or not enough. Both seemed extremely plausible as Louis was being pulled back and forth between a gentle sting and paramount pleasure. 

Both fingers were a dizzying stretch for him, so inexperienced and naive to the pleasure that come from it. He was only used to his own fingers and being in control of his own stimulation that he was far too sensitive to hold out with a pair or larger ones inside him, as he soon realised with the familiar signs hurtling towards him, shocking him into another soft gasp. 

No sooner had Harry pulled out was he back in, but now repositioned from the front, his arm reaching down between Louis’ thighs to press his fingers inside from an angle that would make him putty in his hands.

Harry began pumping both fingers in and out at a steady pace, being sure to curve them inwards on the push to rub against his prostate, as if he needed the obscene moans that such an action elicited from Louis to survive. 

“You take what I give you so well,” Harry grazed his teeth against Louis’ upturned chin, “so obedient when you want to be baby.”

Crystal blue eyes fluttered close as the two rough fingers inside him picked up speed.

“Ah- _ah_ …,” Louis hiccuped as Harry not so accidentally ground his hips forward, pressing the intimidating hardness in his pants further into Louis’ trembling thigh, “ _mmh-so_ g-good.”

Louis cheeks matched his lips in being the prettiest, fairest shade of pink as his breaths became more irregular. 

Harry drunk in the sight. Tempting to even the most disciplined of souls.

“ _-oh g-_ ” His hole clenched involuntarily around Harry, a low frequency thrum of need taking over.

He was going to cum by Harry’s hand.

He wasn’t sure what was more alarming; that fact alone or how he was extremely aroused by it.

Their noses bumped as Harry leant forward to lay a pattern of soft nibbles and kisses along his jaw up to his ear, larger physique overshadowing the slighter one even in this position.

Right then all he needed was Harry. All he could _feel_ was Harry. His musky scent enslaving him as Louis bit his already bruised lips, a tear soaked cry bleeding through the gap.

The pressure was building and building in his naval. The familiar pull that felt even more intense with artful fingers violating his sweet spot.

Harry’s breath had quickened, all pushed out through his nose, tendons in his forearm straining from the demand of his work. 

“H-harr,” Delicate fingers gripped the top of monstrous shoulders, hard and capable, “-i- _i’m gonna_ -”

Harry’s breath was warm at his jaw, brushing down his exposed neck. Louis wanted to cry. 

“So good for me Louis…” 

Louis has never known this to feel so fierce before. His rare sexual endeavours were slow and gentle, but this was nothing like that. This was overpowering and greedy. He didn’t know this was even possible.

It had snuck up and was too good too soon and he was going to cry from the feeling. Another stray tear rolled down his cheek.

“Ohhh- _oh_ ,”

And Harry’s fingers ceased. 

He stopped and pulled down and away from the heavily stimulated spot of heaven he wanted to abuse forever. He could watch Louis melt like this every day until his end, pliant and _gone_ at his mercy. But today wasn’t the day. If there was one thing he loved more than watching Louis fall apart from pleasure it was watching him beg for it.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of the throbbing warmth, careful to not stimulate anything further and had to restrain himself with clenched eyes and jaw to not succumb to the visions that arrested his inner eye.

“Wh-” Louis’ entrance twitched, empty and tight pre climax. 

“I’ll say it one more time,” Harry licked his lips, composure now back in full tact, getting impossibly close that their breaths were combined, “ _watch, your, language_.”

This was most unfair.

Louis couldn’t see beyond the suffocating fog of sex that was making his brain short circuit, leaving little room to process anything _but_ Harry’s atrociously large hands and deep voice and broad shoulders and the imbecile was talking to him about his language? Of all the times for him to bring-

-“You’re going to take a cold shower.” Harry looked down at him, bracing his arms either side of a flustered little Louis still looking at him completely confused, “Now.”

“Bu..” And that’s when it clicked. 

This was his punishment. 

_Oh._

Harry saw the realisation fall over those beautiful glazed eyes.

“Sweet boy, you’re going to strip, take a cold shower so this,” Harry grabbed a greedy hand full of Louis’ sinful bottom, kneading it only once to stop himself getting carried away, “is taken care of.”

He stepped back then, rolling his shoulders a little to loosen them and looked at Louis dead on.

“You’re not going to touch yourself until I give you permission.”

Louis mortification - as like every emotion he ever experiences - took over his expression and Harry dismissed it with one look. 

“You would be foolish to defy me.”

And if anything proved that it would be the last eight or so minutes.

“That’s- you’re… mean.” 

Louis could’t deny the petulance of his tone, he’d never felt so childlike before. So warm and safe and even if he wasn’t _entirely_ fulfilled it felt like another itch had been scratched. 

He was absolutely hanging by a thread because of two dutifully equipped fingers. His whole body had been brought to the edge of what was promising to be the most intense orgasm of his life only for it to be taken away at the very last second. Absolute torture. He ached for it. He wanted to push his own fingers inside his tightness and chase it right there on the bathroom top until he blacked out. He pushed down on a small mewling sound rising in the back of his throat at the thought of Harry watching him do it.

Harry stood back, paying no mind to his own arousal which was more than evident in such tight jeans, other than adjusting it a little. He frowned slightly, looking down as he pulled at his neglected - and rather painful - erection. He popped the button to his jeans, to ease the strain. 

Louis didn’t know how he felt about this. Just knew he was floating. He knew what he wanted right now and that was to fall prey to whatever desire Harry had in that very second. But he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t push his limits any further. Blushed at the thought alone. Instead he just watched, mouth watering at the excessive swell of his manhood.

“Be that as it may. Like I said,” He warned through a small hiss, bringing his attention immediately back up to the very cause for his southernly discomfort, “if you even think about finishing yourself off when you get home, I will know.”

Louis’ own erection jerked at the thought. Why was he allowing Harry to dictate something so intimate. Something that didn’t belong to him. 

He didn’t argue, just nodded feebly. Wasn’t even going to really. He was too sunken into his weird state to even muster the energy to do so. Maybe he was more willing to let him dictate that he would admit. 

“Are um, are you going to watch?”

“I won’t.” Harry had started busying himself in the tall cupboard, fetching a couple of large white towels out of it, “I will wait outside for you.”

He folded them on top of the chair and noticed Louis’ haze. He was open right now - in more ways that one - no barriers up to hide the undeniable appetite he’d cooked up. He stopped for the briefest moment, distracted by the possibility before him; the very open offer he could so easily take as glassy blue eyes trailed up and down the bulk of his body, taking time to linger on the jet black ink of his forearms, his exposed chest and of course his arousal. 

Louis shuffled, becoming so uncomfortable and unbearably drawn towards Harry as he closed the gap again on his passing to the door. 

“Move now, little one.” He unhatched the lock.

Neither of them acknowledged the resounding bang of which they both knew was the front door. 

 

*

 

Des was on fire by the time he’d settled into his outburst. His throat may as well bleed with the ferocity he barked at his Son. All of which said Son was entirely, as always, unfazed by and leant against the frame of the door way in utter nonchalance the entire rant.

“What's done is done. The man is a pig.” 

“I warned you about getting close to the boy, told you that I would start playing hard ball if you resisted my commands further.” 

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take for you to realise I don’t much care for your wishes,” Harry cracked his neck, sighing from boredom. 

“Louis is getting in the way.”

“Don’t grace your tongue with his name, you cheapen it.” Harry glowered a little, wanting nothing more to get back to his scared indulgence. “I’m surprised you haven’t pointed out the other _issue_ yet. Actually I’m surprised you didn’t get here sooner, surely one of your doormats contacted you about-” 

“Oh no they alerted me alright, told me you were having your way with him in the fucking bathroom.” Des swallowed, shaking his head on a mock laugh, “I thought to myself, I thought _oh_ maybe he’s going to finally do what he’s needed to do this entire time. Tear him apart until there isn’t a square inch on his body left unmarked and he escapes barely breathing, barely holding his own, dignity in so much shreds that he’ll think the only thing left to do is kill himself just like your innocent fucking sister!”

Harry leaped from the doorway then, powered by enough anger to send a solid fist colliding into his Father’s jaw.

He wanted to kill him.

He wanted to watch his Father bleed out from his ears, slowly and excruciatingly. But he stopped himself, clenched his fists so hard at his sides that he was certain the scabs at his knuckles would split open once more. Des had to remain alive if he were to hold any chance of escape. Ultimately, he knew this.

“You cannot help yourself can you?” Des hissed at the ache spreading through his cranium, the taste of blood filtering past his bust lip.

“You are a coward.” Harry ran his tongue along his teeth, feeling nothing but _hate_ for the individual climbing his way back to a vertical position before him. “ You speak as if this entire situation is my fault but forgive me, I believe if it wasn’t for _you_ , you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place. If it wasn’t for _you_ Gemma would still, be, alive.” His teeth grit so hard it hurt.

Des reeled, sweat patches formed at his underarms, hidden by his jacket. The sheen of sweat on his forehead not so unnoticeable.

“I’ve been too tolerant, I’ve grown lazy with you, paid too much attention to the other shit that’s been going on that it had slipped my mind as to the disappointment I have for a Son.” Des pointed his steady finger at Harry, who actually faltered at that last part. “Not any more kid. If Ivan catches wind of your incident then I'm done for. No, you’re going to be so drugged up, so out of it you’ll think water is dry. So angry you’ll grow ravenous, so much that nothing but the blood of another will satisfy.”

Des laughed, taking a few steps back not breaking his icy glare. 

“Game’s over, Harry. I always win.”

Harry let the cruel words sink in. For once, even after all he’d been through, all the things he’d witnessed and done that would make the grim reaper sink into a corner and cry, for the first time he felt defeated. Small.

The front door closed with a soft click, shutting out the harrowing sound of his Father’s chuckle.

At the top of the stairs, small hands gripping the banister just out of sight of the person way below, Louis stood. Wet hair sticking up in it’s towel dried composure. Tears stung, his throat suddenly dry and taught as he tried to let what he’d just learnt settle into his already muddled mind.


	17. 17

Louis hurriedly wiped away the tears, willed himself to keep it together enough to make it down the stairs and out of the door without giving into the overwhelming urge to take Harry with him. His cheeks puffed out as he pushed a breath, a shaky hand coming to rest on the upper part of his tummy to calm the bubbling anxiety. 

His legs were trembling for an entirely different reason than what they were ten minutes ago. The grip he had on the bronze banister as he descended the stairs was serving as nothing less than leverage. If he let go, his knees would buckle.

Harry remained in the same spot, same position, eyes glassed over. For the first time since they’d met he looked vulnerable. Dangerously exposed. He hadn’t moved anything since his Father’s departure. Louis wondered if he was even breathing he was so stock still. 

“Harry?” He was grateful it came out steady.

And just like that, Harry snapped out of whatever it was he was sunken into. Blinking twice as the smirk that surfaced at the rarest of times did the even more seldom thing of extending into an actual toothy grin. Dimples popped in all their stupidly beautiful glory. 

He pushed his hair back and cleared his throat, now utilising those long limbs he calls legs to close the gap between them. 

“Cleaned up?”

Louis had forgotten what he’d learnt for a second, too distracted by the gallant beauty now inches away.

“Yes, all… all done.” Louis clamped down on a smile, bowed his head as the tease of a blush coloured his cheeks again from the memory. He looked at the black boots Harry donned, making a soft clicking sound as he took two more steps into his space - could he even call it personal space anymore? Did it belong to him only now? Harry was slowly infiltrating everything else about him.

“Good.” A hand, capable of so much harm, was a featherweight on his chin, lifting it so their eyes merged, “You might be waiting quite some time for that release sweetheart, I don’t think I’ll be allowed many visitors over the next week or so.”

Louis searched his face. Was this him making an excuse for Des?

“Harry…” 

“Don’t argue with me. We’ll see each other soon enough.”

Louis shook his head. Why was he lying for him?

“Harry I’ll be back within the week,” He saw the mild anger rise, his unusually relaxed composure stiffening at his display of defiance, “no- I’m not, I’m not dismissing what you’re saying I - _Harry_.”

“I’ve come to adore your stubbornness, it fuels the best and worst parts of me. But this time you must listen.”

Louis still shook his head.

“I _am_ listening,” The lump in his throat was too far along to be ignored, he raised a hand to take Harry’s, this being the boldest move he’d made next to the candle holder throwing, “always do.”

The change in atmosphere had happened so quickly. Harry peered down at where they were now joined, the tenderness of Louis’ thumb rubbing over the back of his hand made him wonder what warranted a touch so loving. He wanted to turn over his palm and engulf it. The instinct burnt in his bones, rattling his brain as to _why_ he didn’t just-

“Harry, it’s going to be alright.”

Harry jolted back into the present moment. Frown dropped away from his features, plain shock taking it’s place. His surroundings blurred, looking up instantly at Louis crystal clear, the only focus he has. 

The _‘what did you just say’_ was present enough on his face that words weren’t needed. 

Harry could see the watery layer on his eyes that wasn’t there moments ago and wasn’t stupid. 

Louis wasn’t strong enough to keep it in, he needed to get out to the car. He needed to put things in motion. He needed to help.

“I have to go,” With a sniff and an internal plea that Harry would let him, he reluctantly released his hold, “I’ll- I’ll see you soon. Okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

And without giving Harry the chance to respond in any which way he pulled down the front of his t-shirt feeling a dreadful sadness settle in his chest and slipped through the large door, the first tear trailing down his cheek as soon as it closed.

 

*

 

“Lou mate I’m seriously running so late.”

“I know I just-”

“-Look my Mum’s relying on me to take her to her appointment, something she doesn’t want t’be late for and I’m already late picking her up so she’s gonna be more stressed if I take much longer so.”

“But this is important, can’t your Dad take her?”

Niall looked at him like he wanted to thread his intestines through his nose.

“Louis, I’m here for you. Whatever it is, but I need to go. I will be back in two hours.”

He knew he was being quite selfish, but Louis was itching to get this information out in the open and start things moving. He couldn’t let this lie in the mud for any longer.

“Niall-”

The trio of knocks on the front door had both boy’s heads turned towards it. Wondered who it could be as they both knew Zayn was at work, Craig was on work experience and anyone else they were familiar with were at Glastonbury. Louis nearly tripped on the converse that were placed carelessly _next to_ the shoe rack. He glared at Niall, who avoided his stare entirely as he pulled the door open.

“Annabelle.”

“Hi guys, hi, I got back this morning, came straight here.” She had that look of pity again that Louis really did despise. Louis had called her the day after the wedding, told her everything. She motioned towards their more than obvious flustered state, “is this a bad time?”

Ironically, she couldn’t have chosen a better one.

“Actually no,” Louis offered, practically dragging her inside, “Might as well kill two stones with one bird.”

Louis heard it. Waved his hand before Niall managed to blurt out the correction that begged on his lips.

“You know what I mean.” He bracketed his arms out behind his two friends, ushering them into the living room to Annabelle’s confusion and Niall’s objection.

“Louis-”

“ _Shh!_ ” Louis nodded towards the couch, seeing Annie hesitating, “sit please. This’ll take less than a minute. Okay so you both know the thing that happened with Harry…”

He waited for a confirmation, but got two exchanged looks instead. Something unreadable.

“Which thing are you referring to exactly?” Annabelle spoke first.

“Well, everything, really. I mean-” Louis was so sure of what he was going to say and how he wanted to say it before, “- how he is and stuff.”

Niall ran a hand over his forehead, checked the time on his phone and gave him a pointed look. Something that could rival Harry’s stony glare. 

“Okay basically, he’s being drugged.” 

Annabelle lit up, mouth falling open in a loose ‘o’.

Louis continued, “Yeah, yeah our suspicions about the ill-use of drugs were right. I’ve just come from his house now, Des was there, didn’t realise I was listening in and said something about drugging him up so bad he’s going to be totally out of it, _angry_ , worse than before.”

“Oh my god…” Annie looked from Louis to the table before her, now literally on the edge of her seat, visibly trying to piece it altogether in her head, “…so you mean Des has been drugging him to make him into being hostile? Meaning he’d get angry and aggressive and- oh my god he must’ve known Harry would hurt you?”

A flashback Louis hadn’t thought on for a little while burnt into the back of his eyelids. He shook his head and looked down. 

“Yeah, he actually said something about that too… he doesn’t like how Harry is warming towards me. Like you said, he needs him to remain hostile to everyone. He wants him to hurt me.” 

“Fuck me that’s sick." She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, "That’s wretched that he’d want his own Son to become a rapist, a-a-”

“A killer.” Louis nodded, “It all fits. It makes so much sense now. The way he’s always treat Harry, the total detachment of emotions when it comes to anything to do with each other, the way Harry told me to go to the police with the information we had, you know, the letter? He was obviously trying to tell me _without_ actually telling me. Why, I don’t know. But when I heard that earlier it was just like,” he snapped his fingers mid air, “ah.”

Annie followed this word for word. They discussed all the other strange scenarios that had happened, both bouncing off the energy of things finally coming together. Every little thing led back to the same answer. 

“I wonder what drug it is.” Annie mused, pulling at the tips of her hair absentmindedly as she thought, “something powerful enough to completely alter his conscious mind.” 

“That drug you couldn’t find any information about? Well I’m betting that’s the one.” Louis felt relief, ideas on a constant outpour, “The judge, Ivan, mentioned it. Why else would he be concerned with the dosage?”

“Oh god you’re right!”

“I mean, I’m under no delusion that Des only uses one drug on Harry, he’s able to completely change his personality his own moral standings, so I’m sure there’s more but to be bothered about that one in particular, well. It must be.”

During this, neither of them had noticed the phone call Niall had slipped off to make. They only registered his reappearance because he sneezed as he edged behind Louis, face completely drained of colour.

“Oh Ni… mate shouldn’t you go?” Louis felt extremely guilty, “I just, I needed to tell you about this before you went so you knew, we can pick it up later.” 

The Irishman didn’t look to be as much in a hurry as he were previously. He shook his head, looked like he were about ready to vomit.

“Just called my Dad, he’s taking her.”

Now Louis was torn. Does he bring up the fact that _that was exactly what he suggested earlier_ or become more concerned of his friend’s sudden turn to the quiet side?

“Oh, okay great, problem solved.” Louis looked at Annabelle, seeing if she were getting similar vibes, “um, well you can help us figure out a plan then.”

Niall hadn’t looked at him.

Annabelle shifted on the couch, uncrossing her legs.

“Yeah, this is…” The sound the air being pushed out of the fabric of the cushion when Niall deposited himself on it with a rejected sigh was the only thing that followed. Niall having trailed off into his own world again.

Louis side eyed Annie, who was pouting at Niall.

“…uh, this is _fantastic?_ I know it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t right any wrongs that Harry has done, but” Louis motioned with his hands, trying to convey the excitement of it all, “but we can finally take Des down. Des, the real criminal, the mind behind the act.”

Niall’s slow nod, eyes still elsewhere, irked Louis.

Scratch that it pissed him right off.

Why wasn’t he on the same level as them? The pair couldn’t understand his uncharacteristically anti climax. After all Louis had been through, first with the attack and then with the most recent events of the wedding turned blood bath, he expected his best friend to hold a little more enthusiasm.

“I’ll go make some tea.”

Annabelle, having only been in their home once before, decided to maker herself thoroughly at home and take to the kitchen. Sensing the imperative need to leave the two boys alone for a second.

Louis stepped back to let her pass, with a thankful smile. Hands braced on his hips the smile instantly faded when he resumed his incriminating stare on the pale blonde.

“Niall love, are you alright?” Gently does it. He took a calmer approach than the one in his head and waited.

Niall leant forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. 

So thats a _no_. 

“Niall, is it something to do with your Mum?” Previous rage forgotten, he realised something bigger might be going on behind the scenes. His trail of thought took it’s own reigns for a second and trickled back to his own Parent. Should he tell her? Explain everything about the disaster that is Harry Styles? Would she care? After seeing her fiancé fighting for his life after his near mutilation, maybe she wouldn’t be so understanding. No. Maybe that was something to mull over another day. 

Niall however, was in the middle of his own very real battle. How was he going to get out of this now? Would Louis think him cruel for keeping it from him through his rape? After he’d confided in him about his teenage abuse? 

It had taken _this_ for him to come clean.

“Yeah.” Niall’s muffled admittance got Louis shuffling closer, on his knees now so he could pull away his hands.

“What’s happened?” Louis’ brows turned up in genuine concern, voice soft and pure. Just like his heart. 

_Fuck Des_ , Niall thought. He was the real criminal here, not that fucking man. He’d been so selfish.

He looked down at his hands, resting on his own. Listening to the clunking of a spoon being thrown into a cup from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know how to say it.” 

Louis nearly fell over himself to reassure his friend, repositioning his upper body so he could kneel comfortably. He winced at the minor tug on his nether regions, a sinful reminder of earlier affairs. With a clearing of his throat - and mind - a light squeeze to his clammy hands, he leant forward so Niall _had_ to look at him.

“A wise boy once told me, that no matter what it is we’ll get through it.” His blue eyes were so sweet, home to the most authentic intentions, “eh? Come on Ni.”

Niall was crying. It came from absolutely nowhere, crept from the part of him that he’d been suppressing for too long.

Louis engulfed him with gentle arms in a second, fingers walking around his back to maximise his grip. He wasn't the best with criers but this was something else.

“ _Hey heyyyy_.” Louis’ heart shattered, he’d seen Niall cry only three times before and two of them had been from happiness. He shushed his friend’s sobs with a soothing hand landscaping his back, warm palm sending shivers up the boy’s spine. 

But the tingles weren't comforting. They were laced with guilt and Niall just couldn’t bare it, he pushed him away a little more forcibly than was necessary and held his hands out to stop him attempting to come back. 

“Louis you need to stop,” A shake of the head, face now reddened from the pressure build up.

“Ni what’s going on?” Louis was confused. Completely and utterly baffled. He sat back, feeling slightly deflated at his friend’s actions but still not enough to abandon him at his weakest.

“You can’t call Des out yet, not,” Niall’s hiccups wracked his chest, he shakes his head furiously, “not right now Lou.”

Not what he was expecting. But okay.

“Sorry?”

“Just give me some time…” He felt ridiculous trying to bargain over the subject. 

“Niall, what are you on about?” Eyebrows strung together, his entire body falling back an inch or so, feeling like a coil that was being steadily drawn, “why would you want me to-”

“-Louis please. Do you trust me?”

Louis retreated even more now, sat back on his bum, legs stretched out ahead. 

“If you asked me that at any other point of our friendship the answer would be an absolute yes, but mate right now…”

Niall laughed. Nothing was funny. 

“You’re going to fuckin’ hate me man.”

Louis felt dangerously close to tears himself, his toes were going numb. He turned his head by a fraction, keeping his eyes planted firmly on Niall, not wanting to speak for whatever it was that was about to burst out of Niall right now was setting up to look too important to miss.

“Just please trust me.”

“Niall!” He snapped. Feeling another personality slot into place out of his body's natural instinct to protect. He shouted, wary and angry and he was fed up of being kept in the dark over too many things. “Just fucking spit it out!”

Niall stretched his neck back, turning his face to the ceiling before taking a last breath. Couldn't look him in the eye to say it.

“Des is the one person keeping my Mother alive.” 

A cup smashed to the floor behind Louis, the contents stained the cream carpet an ugly beige. Annabelle gasped.

 

*

 

_-Two days later-_

 

Harry pulled the stool underneath him, arm reaching back between his legs as he sat down in front of the bookcase. 

He held the picture he’d retrieved off the shelf with both hands. The same photograph Louis had plucked before, when curiosity got the better of him once again and tried to question about the people within it.

He ran a long index finger over the woman, dark hair tumbling past her shoulders, looking into the lens with a smile that duplicated his own. Dimples and all.

“You were taken too soon Mother,” He murmured, audible to only a few square inches. He swallowed thickly, “things would be so different if you were here.”

His eyes dropped to the small girl clutching her hand, chewing on a chubby thumb. 

His heart thrummed at the innocent face and bright eyes that bore into him. Full of life and mischievous youth. He missed that face so much. Would give up his own life in exchange for hers. He wiped away the droplet that smeared on the glass from his tear. 

It felt like he was drawing this chapter of his life to a close, holding the photograph to his chest, the only one his Father had left of his Mother and Sister. Like he was saying goodbye to the only good thing that had come into it since. The first time he was made to do one of his Father’s biddings he felt important, _useful_. It was only roughing up someone that Des had convinced Harry he deserved it. Just needed someone to do it for him. And of course, out of loyalty, he complied.

Naive and ignorant to the slippery slope it was going to turn into after that. A slope that ended with his Home, the place he grew up in, turning into a prison. And Louis. 

He thought about all the hopes he’d held over their acquaintance. Unfortunate as it had been, as frustrating and painful as it still is he was willing to do whatever it took to prove himself to Louis. Even nearly kill a man, apparently. He closed his eyes at the thought, replaying the scene in his head and quite enjoying the callousness of it all. Normally he felt nauseated at the memory of his acts. But this anger had been genuine, not induced by some artificial drug. He meant it. It had come from a real place and he wasn’t a man of regrets when it came to those he held close. 

A couple of occasions he had allowed himself to fantasise about what it would be like to be free of these chains. Under the unescapable rule of his Father he had deemed it impossible for quite some time, but when Louis had landed himself in his life and made it quite clear he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, there was a sliver of hope. Harry had forgotten what it felt like to love, to possibly _be_ loved. 

He opened his eyes, abandoning the images of a tiny brunette with curiously blue eyes and soft hands, to draw himself back to the sombre present and the clattering in the hallway.

He was in a dark place and didn’t know how to get out. For the first time, he’d had hope. Something he’d never experienced. And for the first time, it’d been shattered. Able to empathise with so many others that had their souls, their resistance broken. The pain he’d felt so far in his life was incomparable. 

The door behind him opened, allowed a set of footsteps to come through it. Then another. There were more than just a couple - too many to decipher. 

Harry stood up and carefully placed the frame back in it’s rightful place. Sighing at the sound of clasps being popped, metal constraints being pulled and the dull rumble of a voice he couldn’t care to remember. This was it. He turned his head to the side, eyeing the army that had barged their way into his private space, through his peripherals. 

The man studied Harry’s back, his strong side profile.

“Easy big guy… you know the drill.”


	18. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments, once again. I love you all. Please remember that. When you hate me.
> 
> Also why have I never seen [this](https://66.media.tumblr.com/90760f72580ed1063f0c724cde3e4bfd/tumblr_o9c723Z8G01tqcxu0o1_500.jpg) photo of Harry before? Perfect Harry for this story.

_-Present Day-_

 

If it were an actual _thing_ for a person to die from information overload, then Louis had been playing hide and seek with death all day.

He’d prayed for this entire situation to make sense for so long now, from the minute he clutched the red lighter down by the lake to a few seconds ago it’s been one very literal whirlwind of dead ends, loop holes and roundabouts. This wasn’t Hansel and Gretel. There had been no fucking breadcrumbs. Just the odd elusive comment dropped from the walking mystery himself. And now, _now_ , his not-so-innocent best friend had just revealed another piece to the puzzle.

“What-” Louis jumped at some of the hot liquid that had splashed onto his back, “ _ow_ Annie!”

She fish mouthed, turned around on the spot, spilling out several apologies as she darted straight back into the kitchen and a couple of bangs and curses later returned with three tea towels, throwing two at Louis. 

“Damn, _damn it_ this is going to stain I really am sorry.” 

Louis was patting down the moisture on his coccyx when he turned to her, shaking his head.

“It’s fine it’s fine, just, make sure you’re careful with those sharp edges. In fact come here,” Louis flapped the back of his t-shirt, trying to get some air flowing onto his semi scolded back. He got on his hands and knees to help collect the pieces quickly, placing them inside the largest part of the mug that was spared, before pulling himself up on a long breath. 

“Niall,” He had his back to him, head hung, watching Annie scurry out of the room through hooded lids, “what did you mean by he’s keeping your Mum alive?”

The skin around Niall’s nails was getting attacked again, more on edge than he’d ever been. 

“I think you already know.” It wasn’t said maliciously.

And it wasn’t taken that way either because, truth was, Louis had already put two and two together. When the confession had left Niall’s mouth his mind instantly sailed back to the conversations he’d had with Annabelle over the past few weeks, more specifically the parts of them that focused on the one of the two drugs Des had founded.

That one drug sustains life for certain respiratory illnesses. Louis could recite the pages of research if he wanted, he’d studied them for so long. 

Niall’s mother had chronic bronchitis. A deadly disease that thus far has no cure, but steady treatment. 

“Des’s drug,” Louis concluded, hand outstretched behind him to feel for the sofa arm as he sat, “I forget it’s name now…”

“Anthroxamine.” Annie had been stood in the doorway for a few seconds.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Niall tipped his chin towards her, thanking her for the cup.

Louis did the same but placed his on the coffee table, _with_ a coaster. He shoved one towards Niall with a knowing look.

“It sustains the expectancy, creates new blood cells to combat the illness for as long as you’ll live. Doesn’t rid it, but keeps it at bay.” Annabelle recited out loud, with Louis following in his mind, “She has to live with the pain, but, she lives.”

Her brown eyes find Niall then, round and sparkling in the overhead light. 

“She says she’s getting better but, I know that she’s not. She thinks they’re just her regularly medicated drugs, but I replace them every time,” Niall took a sip, licked his lips, “why do you think I insist on taking her to every appointment? I can intercept the pills that way, she doesn’t have a clue.”

“But what about the Doctors, surely they’re wondering why her condition hasn’t worsened by now?”

“Dunno,” He shrugged, placing the cup on the kindly provided coaster on the floor, “they just reckon she’s stronger than most. I don’t think it’s untraceable, so if they ever ran a test then they’d probably pick up on it but, so far, nothing.”

Louis chewed the inside of his lip. He had to ask.

“Why would you keep this from me?” His tone sounded nasty, bitter that it’d been kept under the radar. But his face contradicted that, soft and neutral.

“Because if I told you, that’d mean you’d want to rat on Des- which, I completely understand o’course I mean, all this time it’s been a constant battle for me to not do it myself but, when he came to me and offered me that for me Mam I just, I couldn’t. That’s the only reason I’ve betrayed you, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to tell you….” 

Niall went on with his explanation come apology. Louis nodded, he understood. Of course he understood. He bent his torso over his knees to access his own mug steaming away on the wooden table. If he were in the same position as Niall then there’s no doubt he would’ve probably done the- 

-Which was a thought. 

What position exactly had Niall been in for Des to offer him something like this?

“-Wait hold on, sorry, back up a minute.” Louis held out a hand, staring at his mug. The blunt interruption had Annie frozen to the spot, a steady side eye aimed in his direction, “why did Des come to you with this offer in the first place?” 

This was the second part to the story and the part that proved him a concrete liar. Contrary to popular belief. 

“Okay well, I mean everything’s fucking coming out now anyway so,” Niall threw his hands up in defeat, scrubbed them over his face once before winding them together between his open knees. “Harry and I had a run in.”

“I thought you said you were friends with him?”

“I wasn’t. We had met once by chance before so I knew his name but that was it, never properly knew him before this one night-“

“- but you said Alex introduced you to him and-”

“Louis I know what I said.” Niall stared, Louis shut up. Realising he was being annoying. “Okay? Let’s just assume that everything I’ve ever told you about Harry goddamn Styles so far has been one big fat lie okay, it’ll be a lot easier that way.”

“So to cut it short, Harry was running one of his Dad’s _errands_ and by errands I mean…,” He left it open, the pair nodded, got what he meant so he continued, “yeah. So I was there, it was in the town library, I was doing extra credit there, volunteer work late one night and I caught him in an office where he shouldn’t be. Trying to access files that shouldn’t be accessed. Turns out even back then, he wasn’t totally brainwashed. He was trying to access his Father’s files from an independent computer; something that couldn’t be traced. Only thing is we had cameras in there and the files that Harry tried to hack led straight back to that very computer, the IP address, everything so he’d be caught…”

Louis and Annabelle were mirroring, both leant forward, clutching their drinks in cupped hands and just… staring.

“…so before I found any of that out, me not knowing what the fuck he was capable of or anything, went in there and told him to basically fuck off. He obviously didn’t like that, got angry, he was, I guess coming down from the drug he’d taken so the anger was still intensified enough to want to hurt me and uh, well he did. The gob-shite. He broke my wrist and my fucking toe actually-”

Louis practically spluttered, _“-that's how you broke your toe?”_

“Oh er, yeah.”

“Oh my god Niall. Do I even know you? Are we going to have to re do every conversation we’ve ever had?”

Annie and Niall chuckled in unison, Louis, however, didn’t. Still throughly offended at the easy lies about his broken bone.

“ _Anyway_ , it got pretty physical in all the worst ways and I was roughed up quite bad. When I told him about the security cameras and threatened to call the police and stuff he changed. Begged me not to.”

“And you just did?”

“Well the fella seemed absolutely distraught, I mean I know he has mental instability _issues_ but he switched moods mighty quickly and was genuinely begging me. He told me if I didn’t go to the police, he would willingly give me his Father’s number, wrote me his home address, work, everything. Told me to make out I knew exactly who he was and who his Father was and threaten him with pressing charges for GBH, said he would offer me compensation for me lying. Also he swore that he would be forever in my debt if I agreed to wiping the security footage clean.”

Louis, for one, was _shocked_ at that nugget alone. He knew Niall was a technical dab hand but nothing on this scale.

“You wiped it clean?”

“Yeah, all of it. Untraceable. Obviously now, I fully understand why. After I went to visit him twice during his house arrest, after everything went down in the news about him, he told me everything because, because well I kind of already knew.”

“So he owes you a favour?”

Niall’s heart sank to the titanic. 

“I mean, uh, yeah, he di-does obvisouly. Absolutely.” The inside of his mug was suddenly very interesting.

Louis didn’t miss it. He had been ignorant to all this going on behind his back but when Niall is telling small lies, wide open and raw in front of him like that, he couldn’t keep it for shit. Louis knew there was more to it.

Niall prayed to a higher deity Louis would’t push it. Hoping to keep that bomb for another day. After all, it wouldn’t affect any of the outcome so he decided he’s spill at a later date. Vowing this be the last lie he ever held begrudgingly close to his chest again.

“It was never technically Harry I was afraid of.” Niall places his cup back. Cracked his fingers, flexing them between one another, “the man’s scary as fuck don’t get me wrong, even if he was flat out sane I wouldn’t want to titillate his temper. But really, it’s all Des. He’s the puppet master. The brains behind the bulk.”

And if anything rung true from today, it was that.

And the constant undercurrent ache in Louis' backside.

 

*

 

_-Four days later-_

He knew the code. Been here plenty enough, seen it being punched in manually by Mike so many times he’d made sure to memorise it. 

The black gates creaked to life as they opened inwardly, the emblem in the middle splitting in two with the separation and Louis just watched. Waiting for them to open fully before moving forward. He closed them from the other side and trudged up the driveway, again, the familiar gravel beneath his shoes crunching. The sound was comforting. Little did he know that would be the only soothing thing about this humid Tuesday afternoon. 

Didn’t bother knocking once he’d reached the house, it was never locked anyway. Why would it be. No one dared set a foot close enough to throw a stone at the gating that stood proud surrounding the property never mind get close enough to touch it.

Louis was surprisingly calm from his argument with Niall. He hadn’t really let it all sink in yet and he didn’t think it would for a while. But the emotional trauma of it wasn’t the most important thing, that was something he’d deal with as it came. He needed to fix up and do what has to be done. Utilise the information he now has. He had to get to Harry before Des did so he could give him the good news. ‘Good’ being a lazily appropriate but regrettable truth.

He called out Harry’s name, quietly at first. The security system would’ve beeped anyway, alerting him of the gates being opened -furthermore letting Des’s men know he was here which now didn’t bother Louis in the slightest- so he presumed he knew there was someone here. 

He stood still for a moment, focusing on the sounds around him to pick up on anything. But nothing. Eery silence enveloped him and it bugged him.

“Where _are_ you?” Louis pouted, swivelling on his heels to a 180 degree. Then completing the circle, trying to decide which direction to start on first.

Too many times had he been lost in this house.

He had a thought then and surged forward, more than certain of were he were going and how to get there from previous experience. It was the hottest day of Spring so far this year and this place boasted spectacular gardens. Why _wouldn’t_ he want to spend it outside? 

As Louis neared his destination he heard something that cast his mind right back to the beginning of this storm. Barking. He rounded a corner, passing through a seating area with two large sofas facing one another and some sort of bookcase with a large sheet draped over it and caught glimpse of the patio doors. 

The barking sounded again and Louis squinted as he peered through the glass panelling, looking for the source.

“Oh hello,” His voice was a rasp, smiling a little when he saw the black dog bouncing around half way down the left side, next to a large bed of roses. Where on earth had that thing been all this time? Louis wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t actually own the dog and it was merely a stray that just turned up every so often.

The interest was lost on the animal when he then found what he actually came here for.

He could just about make him out. Laid on his back, arms clasped over his torso, Harry lounged on one of the lowly built brick walls that separated the second garden. He wore a white t-shirt, black shorts and _oh for the firsts of all things weird and wonderful_ was barefoot. Soaking up the rays. 

Louis snorted out a laugh, endeared by the sight. Everything he’d acquired over the past four days made him look at the man in a whole new light. A light that had been trying to break through, streaming through the gaps of his resistance, his hesitation all this time. The light he hoped was true, the heart he knew wasn’t as black as he once thought.

He opened the door and stepped out into the heat, a complete contrast to the crisp air of the interior.

The dog had stopped bouncing and pricked it’s ears at the new arrival. Unlike normal hounds that would come bounding up to any newcomer, it stayed put. Just watched him, tail wagging.

Louis squinted, looking down at the steps as he took them, each one getting wider the closer he got to the second landing area. He checked to see if Harry had seen him. Nope. He quite enjoyed the fact they were both wearing shorts. Louis had opted for a dark grey denim pair that fell above the knees but would probably be hot pants on the amazonian creature he was headed for. 

“Harry!” In ear shot now, he could see he was wearing the same black shades he wore in Doncaster. He tried to steady his beating heart as the man turned his head at the mention of his name, unclasping his hands when he saw the person who’d called it.

Louis knew everything was going to be alright now. Harry was here, calm - he was sunbathing for goodness sake - and he’d tell him everything and would finally start to make this right. Even by just a little bit. 

“Well, it’s nice to see you adding a bit of colour to your pasty complexion.” Louis giggled. Probably be reprimanded for being so cheeky later but he wasn’t so put off by the idea. 

Harry had pushed himself up from his position, arms braced behind him on the wall, biceps bulging from the strain. His eyes were still hidden behind the blacked out shades, but he was looking straight at Louis, the prominent arch of his eyebrow visible just above the frame. He could definitely hear him. Which is why Louis wrinkled his nose when he got no reply, glancing at where he last saw the dog only to find it had gone. 

“Wait, where did-,” Louis swung around, genuinely wondering where it had gone so quickly, “-there was that dog here just a second ago, where did it…” When louis turned back to face Harry he was stood. 

Either Louis was living in a parallel reality where time was playing out in a slightly delayed, slow motion way or the lack of sleep was catching up to him. Everything was happening far too quickly for it to be plausible.

“-oh, hi.” Louis smiled, bringing a hand up to block the sun from his eyes so he could see him properly. 

And he really wish he hadn’t. 

Harry removed his glasses, folding them neatly. He looked awful. Well, as awful as someone with the facial structure of Harry could but he definitely looked on the worst side of peaky. Very much resembled someone who hadn’t welcomed sleep in a few days. 

“I thought I told you to stay away.” His voice matched his appearance. Exhausted. Even more croakier than his habitual gravel. So much that Louis might’ve winced from the sound.

“And I told you I’d be back within the week, that I’d make it all okay,” Louis couldn’t wait to tell Harry the plan they’d cemented, “Harry I know about everything, the Niall thing, the-”

“-you’re a fucking idiot.”

It brought Louis to instant silence. Wasn’t it only a few days ago that he’d warned him off such language? 

Louis let his eyes drop to the hands that were now placing the glasses on the wall he previously occupied. There were fresh marks on his knuckles. Not just a tiny nick here and there but red raw scrapes on the bone. Travelling further north, other fresh injuries were visible; a couple of bruises, several alarming cuts and one long gash along his bicep that was beginning to heal over, slicing right through the heart tattoo. 

“I don’t know if you’re being serious or,” Louis shrunk into himself a little, suddenly feeling very oddly aware of his own body. 

He dropped his hand from his brow and looked away for a second, momentarily distracted by a rustling to his left, only for his wrist to be snatched up in an crucifying hold and _dragged_ back the way he’d just come. 

Louis’s shoes scraped and stumbled several times before he even got a taste of the tiniest stance, struggling to keep up with the demanding force that carried him. His shoulder felt like it might pop out its socket if this carried on much longer. 

“H- _Harry!_ This, this isn’t fun,” Maybe this was his way of punishing him again, just got a bit more forceful as the act progressed. After all he was entirely new to this dynamic. “Harry this really actually _s-ah_ , hurts, please let g- _ow!”_

He may as well have flew up the steps from the amount of time his feet spent touching the concrete. 

The hand around his wrist let up once inside. Sweet release. He caught his breath, hissing down at delicate area, rubbing it a little. 

“Holy hell Harry,” His mild curse rang out involuntarily as he saw the red mark already deepening, “you marked me.”

The breath was knocked straight from his lungs when a hand came up to his throat and directed him straight into the nearest adjoining room, kicking the door close behind him. This felt gut wrenchingly familiar.

“You’re weak,” Harry’s teeth bared through the statement, “always bruising so easily.”

Now inside, the lighting allowed Louis to see the eyes he couldn’t before. Being in the close proximity he got to study his face and his heart dropped when he saw the size of his pupils. He tried unwinding his grip when he couldn’t feel the fingers around his neck loosen, but constrict. 

He was too late.

“I’m sick to the back teeth of you being here, you repulse me with the constant nagging and whining about how unfair your life has been, your Daddy issues.” Harry could’ve punched him repeatedly in the gut. It would’ve hurt less. “You’re more fucked up than me pumpkin, coming back to a guy who tried to _fuck_ you against your will? Especially after your step Daddy did the exact same thing.” 

No.

Louis tried to wrestle against his hold, this couldn’t be happening.

“Some might say you want it to happen. Is that it?” Harry walked him back a couple of steps, slammed Louis into the wall ignoring the shriek of pain, “do you want to get torn apart Louis? Used?”

Nothing was coaxed from the younger boy, nothing audible bar a few protesting sounds of struggle as his bony fingers continued to try and weave their way in-between the longer ones now starting to cut off his air supply completely.

With his free hand he back handed Louis’ cheek so hard the corners of his vision blackened momentarily. 

_“Answer me!”_

Louis hands fell down to the thick forearm, tips turning white from the desperation to which he clung on. The thing was he physically couldn’t talk. He’d tried pushing out a coherent word only to find he could’t, managed a strangled vowel at best. 

A prickling sensation started to rise in his fingers, toes and the back of his eyes. Oxygen was failing to reach his brain in great abundance now and the fingers trapping it still weren’t showing any signs of give.

“You must really want to die button.” Harry said, clucked his tongue and released the fatal hold. A choking Louis fell to the ground in a jumble of lifeless limbs as all his energy focused on trying to see properly through his blurred vision, _breathe_ properly with lungs that felt scorched. 

This wasn’t Harry. Harry wouldn’t do this to him. Harry wouldn’t say this words.

Harry gazed down to the boy at his feet, who was clutching his chest in pain and wheezing softly. He relished in playing with his kill before he made his final strike and was going to enjoy this one more than ever. 

“Let’s take you somewhere a little more comfortable shall we, somewhere that might make you feel a little bit more at home.” His tone was lethal, held nothing but cruel connotations as he bent down so he could look him in the eyes, “Somewhere, familiar.” 

When Harry didn’t get the eye contact he was expecting his voice thundered out into the tiny space between them,

“ _Look at me when I speak!”_

Louis’ entire body recoiled, sprung into life from the potent sound. He braced his upper body on unsteady arms, pushing himself up a little and raised his head to meet the demand. 

“Please…” That was enough to break the seal, a few tears fell from bloodshot eyes. His voice was small enough as it was but now it was even more impaired. What real chance did he stand?

A shooting pain struck right through his chest as Harry didn’t wait around for him to finish, already standing back up. He swallowed hard, mustering all the saliva he could to dampen his vocal chords, “ _please_ , Harry you have to remember,” every word was like a mini poker to his throat, “th-this isn’t you, you don’t want to do this _oh my god no please_ -”

Harry had stepped over his tiny form, a leg either side and reached down to secure another solid grip on his ankles. He jerked Louis’ legs from their bent position and pulled him across the room just like that. 

The impaling carpet burn as his t-shirt rode up was agonising. Ripping the barrier of the soft skin of his stomach to reveal the raw flesh beneath. The delicate area of his ribs and the palms of his hands stung as he used whatever might he could to hold on to something, a chair leg, a corner, a doorway _anything_ that would hinder the assailment. 

But nothing did. And Louis knew he was fighting against a strength he’d met before and was more than his match. More than most’s. The noises were something he’d never heard before, didn’t sound like they were even coming from him as his body got trailed behind remorselessly down the many halls. 

Harry started whistling. A tune so chirpy and removed from reality that it would haunt Louis forever.

He _screamed_. Words weren’t going to defer anything. Throat already split, he screeched loud and painful as his journey didn’t come to a stop, body bumping into different objects along the way, the skin around his ankle feeling blistered, the joint itself feeling ready to crack at any moment. 

Harry’s speed never faltered, simply pulling Louis along as if he were nothing but a sack of litter. 

But then the journey came to a twisting stop and Louis arched his body in the pause, levelling out his breath, drying tears pulling his skin tight where they lay. Although it was short-lived, as he opened his eyes to the ceiling, the gothic ribbed vault he’d admired so many times before. He saw the chandelier. The lobby. The hold on his ankle readjusted, two hands now taking dominion around his thin joint. 

“No… _no, no, no, no-_ ” 

Harry took two steps at a time.

Louis did the fastest calculation he’d ever done outside an office. His bum hit the first step and just before his spine collided at the worst angle from the bounce, he flung two frenzied arms around the first railing pillar and _pulled_ with all his will. He hugged his elbows, engaging every muscle he had in his upper body.

And it worked. His ankle didn’t slip from his grip, but it stopped him, pulling Harry back down a couple of steps as if Louis were a rubber band that had gotten caught.

“How many times will I have to remind you, the stubborn streak that runs so deep in you, the struggle that it causes,” Harry let his foot flop to the steps with a painful thump, “only serves to make the entire thing more exciting for me.”

Harry hopped down the stairs in a flash, already winding his able arms around Louis’ with a tenacious force, breaking his bound hands instantly. His breathing was shallow and strained. Harry never got flustered, Louis had never seen a fury like this before; this doubled the first time and with that thought he was determined to not let this go any further with the sickening threat of what he could, no, what he _would_ do. 

The dose must have been a killer. He couldn’t shake the image of a smug Des from his mind. Knowing he’s probably enjoying all of this live through the cameras.

“Harry stop!” His voice was so close to shutting down completely, reduced to a scratch. 

He pushed down on the arms that pulled him upright, almost bridal style if it weren’t for Louis' hand coming to connect with force right in the centre of Harry’s chest. 

He was of no greater strength but he knew that there was a pressure point directly in the middle of the ribcage, the exact spot he’d just struck. Harry’s left arm dropped, surprised at the breath it’d taken from him as he clutched his chest.

This left an open opportunity for Louis, something that looked like his only chance of escape. In a moment of desperation he did something he wouldn’t do under any other circumstance ever. _Ever_.

He aimed a foot at the easy target of Harry’s groin.

A frightful growl echoed as Harry doubled over. That definitely got both hands away from him quick time. Long enough for him to scramble into the vast area of the foyer, checking over his shoulder the distance left between him and the door.

“Listen, _listen_ , please- look at me, look” He held his hands out, staring at the terrifying pupils - next to no green was visible and it was quite distressing - looking back at him, surveying his every move, predicting them. “Harry it’s me Louis, you don- you don’t want to hurt me, this isn’t what you do- you don’t want to do this Harry. _Harry_.”

Louis licked his lips, taking constant steps back on the beat of every second.

Harry’s chest heaved, still doubled over from the ache in his manhood. He stared back. Venom coursing through his bloodstream. He slowly rose to a standing position, posture proper enough to access his true height. Definitely over six foot. 

Every muscle was notoriously outlined through his t-shirt. And that’s all he was right now; a solid assemblage of muscle motivated by one emotion. No heart, no soul, void of any higher, sane brain power that allowed his conscience to filter through. He wasn’t a person. Just a machine. 

He laughed, turned his chin up and peered at Louis through lowered lids. 

“You think you hold all the answers,” He sniffed then, closed his eyes while he rolled his neck deliberately slow on its axis until Louis felt the crack that resonated, “you’re just a petulant little boy, trying to save the day. Time to give up.”

Louis had been crying this entire time, but hadn’t registered the wetness until now. He wiped his hand along both his cheeks, sniffling automatically and shook his head. Shook it again as Harry started to round in on him.

“You don’t mean any of it,” He’d told himself that repeatedly, had to, to stop the voices in his head from winning. The voices that had been there since his abuse, telling him he’s sick, he’s worthless and deserves to be treat exactly so. “I know you don’t, I’m going to make this right and you’re going to get better, everything is going to be okay.”

Louis had never wanted to say three words more than now. But thought it a wasted effort. There will be a better time and place, for it will still be true if not more valid then. 

So he did the only thing he could. He bolted. 

He had speed on his side, even with the hindrance from his ankle he’d somehow learnt to build a higher threshold to pain and forced his way through it as fast as his legs would take him.

But Harry’s were longer. And powered by larger muscles. That was enough to get him tumbling down the steps, down the length of the drive, through the iron gates and along the upper end of the hill so fast he saw stars. 

He hadn’t looked back. 

Not even as he punched in the code and waited for the gates to open by a few inches for him to squeeze through. Even when hit the thickage he surged through, vision threatening to wipe out, legs rattling from the effort. 

It was a few minutes later, only when he reached the other side of the trees and had his feet on the stony footpath did he stop. And by stop, he collapsed. First onto his knees, then the rest followed. He could feel himself drift, passing out from exhaustion with the sound of the wild river in the distance, the imprint of Harry’s black eyes on his mind.

 

*

 

Niall was there. Zayn too. Annabelle’s orange jacket was hanging over the chair in the corner yet she wasn’t physically present.

Louis’ vision cleared steadily and then all at once with the sudden HD image of Zayn and those chocolate brown eyes inches away from his own, looking at him like he were trying decipher the exact shade of blue his own eyes were.

“Yeah,” His silky voice mumbled, nodded then looked over his shoulder, “he’s definitely awake this time.” 

Louis, confused wondered what ‘this time’ meant. Had he been lying there with his eyes wide open at some point? He’d read about that, people dying or passing in and out of consciousness with open eyes and it quite frankly really freaked him out.

“Mate,” A thick accent to his left, a warm hand on his bare forearm, Niall, “you’re alright, you’re in hospital, only went and passed out again didn’t you.”

Ah. There it was. All he needed for his memory to be lodged back into place. He felt drained. 

“This, is the second time in two months we’ve seen you for blacking out Mr Tomlinson,” A middle aged doctor with kind eyes announced, coming through the door stilling any response Louis was going to give, all eyes in the room turned to him. “I’m starting to worry.”

Louis shook his head no, “I’m fine.”

Niall’s phone rang to life and the boy nearly fell over, Zayn rolling his eyes.

The doctor - _Dr Kuldin_ , Louis squinted at the typing on his badge - shot a sideward glance at Niall, pausing in whatever he was scribbling down on his clipboard.

“You know we require all mobile phones to be switched off when on any ward, right?” He wasn’t mad, appeared quite amused if anything.

“Yeah, yeah.” Niall scrambled for it, thumbed something on the screen which made it silent, “Sorry, s’just my Mum. I’ll call her back later.”

Zayn said he should could her back right away and not ignore her for the seventh time.

Niall hushed the comment, appearing to be suddenly very dismissive of the subject and motioned towards the paper on Dr Kuldin’s board.

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, I was hoping you’ll clarify a few thing for me first,” He held the clipboard close to his chest, clicking his pen, looking at Louis like he already knew everything, “like the friction burns on your torso and back.” He peered at Louis over the rim of his glasses, raising an aged but gentle hand to his face, “And this single laceration on your cheek.” 

Louis didn’t need a mirror to guess the damage, could feel the heat of the injury radiating off his skin. He closed his eyes for a long second, trying to detach the association of Harry’s hands.

“I- can I have a second with my friends please?” 

“You can, but I assure you you’re safe here, alright?” He fiddled with the drip in Louis’ arm for a second and tapped his clipboard, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

With that he lingered for a moment more, giving Louis a knowing look until he quietly slipped back out where he came. The trio waited until the door clicked shut.

“Why the fuck did you go to Harry’s?” Niall, looking like he were high all of sudden, didn’t beat around the bush.

Louis’ eyes bulged, looking at Zayn and back to Niall. 

Zayn shuffled his bum back into his seat and bobbed his head a sympathetic expression aimed straight at Louis.

“Niall’s told me everything.”


	19. 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Harry in this one, it's pretty slow, just setting the foundations for what's to come.

“Can we remember Louis is currently tied up in a _hospital_ bed, alright? Take it easy mate.”

Annabelle had returned, nodding her head in agreement with Zayn, “Niall I know you’re mad but try and see it from his perspective at least.”

Niall could. But absolutely couldn’t. Louis had been ridiculous to even consider going to that boy’s house again especially as his Father’s threat was so fresh out the oven, knowing full well what he had in store for him.

“You’ve seen how the drugs send him, you’ve seen the articles, the evidence is there and you’ve had more than your fair share of it so _why_ would you fucking put yourself back there without checking first?”

Louis winced as he sat up, the burns on his stomach stinging as he tried to straighten himself against the head board. He could see his ankle had bruised quite horrifically now.

“Niall, I’ve just explained I didn’t think he would’ve-”

Niall waved a hand mid sentence to which Zayn glowered, he was growing tired of his friend’s attitude.

“-you should’ve checked. You should’ve gone in there with security and you should’ve checked.”

At the end of the day, he was right. But in the world of Harry Styles common sense and normality were foreign notions and held no affect and it was starting to wear off on him. He didn’t say anything back, just remained silent as everything was already out there, he had nothing left to justify the why’s what’s and how’s of what he did and there really wasn’t anything else left. 

Niall resigned, sighing out a breath he’d been holding. 

“This is bad. This is so bad.”

“No, Harry will be fine, we just need to figure out a new-”

“I’m not talking about him Louis for Christ’s sake I’m talking about you! Stop fucking thinking about him, you come first here. This is bad for you, look how he’s hurt you _again_ , he’s laid his hands on you _again_ , this is just going to take you straight back to square one and we're the ones who have to watch you suffer.” Niall’s accent got harsher when he raised his voice, the timbre became colder and void of the Niall everyone was used to. 

Zayn held up his hands, he came to stand in between Niall and the bed, where Louis sat, feeling deflated and just very, very sad. He didn't have the will to fight anymore.

“I think that’s enough interrogation for today. Niall, maybe go get yourself some coffee or a tranquilliser gun or something and take a few a moments and Annabelle, what do you keep looking at?”

She whipped her head round, wide eyed. She’d been too caught up in peering down the corridor through the small glass panel in the door for fifty percent of the conversation and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the boy, who was staring at her now, expecting an explanation as to what could possibly be more important than the happenings within these four walls.

“I’m expecting… someone.” She said it too nonchalantly for it to be left at that. 

Zayn kept staring, Niall frowned and Louis pouted, speaking up after a beat, “Who?”

“After our conversation the other day, it got me thinking. And then I couldn’t stop thinking. And then I thought so much that I nearly sent myself off the rails,” She cackled, covering her mouth but coughed, sobering instantly when she was met with three neutral expressions and one quirked brow, “Basically, I couldn’t shift the feeling something wasn’t quite right with the whole Judge situation. If Des tries to compensate Harr-sorry, _his_ victims then he must have something on Ivan too.”

“You mean, he must be getting something out of the agreement?” Niall questioned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed careful not to touch Louis’ ankle.

“Exactly. There’s no way he’d risk his career off the back of doing his _friend_ a _favour_.” Annie shook her hair out of her eyes.

The stars must’ve been aligned as perfectly on cue the door clicked open to reveal a fifty odd year old woman and Dr Kuldin. There was a look of fear, a sort of uncertainty laced with something unreadable on her face as she moved slowly further into the room. She was attractive, slim and her greying hair did nothing but give her more charm. She wore a cashmere pink sweater and a pencil skirt, small navy court heels and the daintiest gold cross around her neck. 

“Louis, a Mrs Sutton to see you? Said it was urgent.” The Doctor spoke, removing his glasses and letting them hang around his neck. “Also I have a unforeseen emergency I must tend to, I trust you’ll be okay for another twenty minutes or so?”

“Y-yeah, okay and yeah sure.” Louis forgot to ask who Mrs Sutton was exactly but when she thanked the Doctor before he turned to walk back out, he didn’t need to. Sutton was the surname that rang loosely in the back of his mind and now came to the forefront - Ivan Sutton. 

“You’re the Judge’s wife.” Louis blurted out the attribution, forgetting that he’d only had the first conversation with himself in his head. He felt rude, but didn’t much care. 

The timid looking lady bowed her head in a small courtesy and readjusted her grip on the small leather hand bag she were gripping so keenly. 

“My friends call me Pamela, but yes you’re quite right.”

Three pairs of eyes redirected to Annabelle who felt very suddenly attacked under varying waves of disapproval. 

“You shouldn’t blame her for contacting us.” Pamela’s eyes were warm, approachable, “once she explained herself and the situation on your behalf, Ivan was more than willing to sit down and have a wee chat.”

She smiled politely at Niall who instantly moved from his lounging position of the bed to pull up a chair for her to take, seating her directly besides Louis.

“How are you dear?” There was something familiar and awfully warm about her voice, like a distant aunt that you visit every summer and Christmas. Like home.

“I’m okay.” Louis answered, managing a small nod and an even smaller smile.

Pamela leant in, corners of her eyes crinkling, “You don’t have to act brave around me young man.”

Louis smiled a little more at that, teeth baring for the smallest glimmer before he bowed his head.

“I apologise for the timing of my visit, but you see when Annabelle told me about what had happened to you today I simply had to tell you right away,” She pleaded her hand bag neatly on her lap, folding her hands over the top. Louis couldn’t help but admire the glinting diamond on her finger. “I won’t keep you for long, we’ll be seeing plenty of each other I imagine in the coming weeks.”

Zayn was the one who spoke. By nature he was more the sit back and observe type, so it came as a surprise to him when he immediately said, “Why?”

“Well you see, Ivan and I have been planning our plan of action for quite some time now.”

“What do you mean?” Even Niall looked at Zayn for a second. 

“My dear husband only ever agreed to let that horror of a man sway his ruling because of me.” Pamela made sure to look at Louis directly as she spoke after addressing Zayn, “At the time I was suffering and had been for quite some time with a rather aggressive form of cystic fibrosis and much like your Mother Niall,” She looked towards the blonde for confirmation then back at Louis, “the medication provided by Dr. Desmond worked wonders. So much so that it guaranteed my survival. As time went on and we could see the results, we grew greedy I’m afraid, selfish if you please. We were too bound by the salvation his medication had given us, that we couldn’t risk losing that and instead put the danger of others, the justification of the victims’ families after our own needs.”

“You can’t blame yourselves,” Niall interjected, “you can’t.”

“Oh but we do.”

“But I understand, you know I’ve been in the same situation, I get it.”

Zayn interrupted, going off topic shortly, "Which reminds me, you're going to call her after this. You haven't spoken to her since this whole thing came out."

Pamela turned around, perplexed at this comment, "How long have you gone without talking to your Mama?"

"Um, well since Louis found out- er so, like, five days?"

She gasped, swatted his arm gently. Clearly comfortable with her company. 

"If there's any slice of advice I can offer to the younger generation it is to never go a day without some form of contact with your Mother or Father. Or anyone who is your guardian. Listen to me boy, you will understand one day."

She turned around in her seat, leaving a blushing Niall to pull a face at a smug looking Zayn.

“Anyway where were we? Oh yes, I find it heart warming that you have all accepted my story so kindly, with such open minds however,” She narrowed her eyes onto Louis again, “The time has come for us to act and we have the resources to do so.”

“But how? You’re in exactly the same predicament we are and plus he beat us to it, Des got to Harry…” She hushed the panic rising with each word with a gentle shushing.

“Louis, I am cured.”

“Oh well, that’s fantastic news but,” It didn’t sink in until a couple of seconds passed and all of the boy’s heads turned in the same direction, “… wait, what?”

“The medication has absolutely rid me of any illness, there is no trace of it left in me. I’ve had the all clear for three weeks.” 

“So that means…” Louis sat up a little bit more, leant a little further, nearly falling into the poor lady’s lap.

“Yes. We don’t need his assistance anymore. And we have the element of surprise on our side as we’re positive Desmond has no idea his medication has such effect. He doesn’t realise his pills are capable of curing and not purely treating.”

Niall thinks about the messages his Mum has sent him, he looks at Zayn who is already looking at him with the same rigour. He fished his phone from his back pocket and sees another missed call. He looked at Louis, looked at Zayn, looked at his phone.

Surely not.

“Me mam sent me a text saying she has good news…”

Pamela surprised everyone when she was shot around once again, lightly stating him on the arm again too as she did.

“Well what are you waiting for boy, go call your Mother!”

It was three minutes and twenty four seconds later Niall reemerged, making a beeline for the boy who hadn't shifted from his position in the bed.

“Louis you know I always insist on reading our star signs?”

A not so subtle eye roll was his only reply.

“Every morning and if you’re not around I write yours on the pad on the fridge?”

“Yes Niall.”

“And you know how much I love reading them?”

“Where are you going with this?” 

“You know how it never comes true?”

“Yeah, yeah I have to listen to you trying to desperately measure up your day with it’s predictions so I repeat, _where_ are you going with this?”

It was good news. Niall shook his head, the grin on his face was so wide he look like a literal sun. Lighting up from the inside out as a fit of giggles broke through his tightly wrung mouth.

“Not this time. It said today would bring a new light to recent events and-” He blinked, not bothering to try and hide the happy tears as he stared down at his phone as if it was the only thing that mattered, “and it came true. Me Mam is fine guys, the medication worked she’s going to be fine I can’t fucking believe it.”

 

*

 

The following days played out smoother than Louis expected. He'd prepared for the worst but each day only brought more clarity than the previous.

After several varying length phone calls between Ivan and Louis, Ivan and Niall’s Mum Maura, Louis and Pamela and Craig’s Father and Ivan, all ironing out any short falls in the plan, resolving any possible bumps they might incur along the way, they managed to collectively cement a plan. 

It was five days after Louis’ most recent regrettable visit to the Style’s residence and even though the experience left him with a broken wing, it wasn’t enough to stop him pushing through. The thought of what he hope would be end game; the more than likely outcome being Harry’s justice brought to rights was all he needed to push everything else back for the meantime and focus on the task ahead.

Craig’s Dad Sean, being the chief inspector, was the first port of call. Ivan contacted him direct and arranged a meeting where himself, his wife, Louis and Niall could talk in confidence and confess everything that had happened. 

Once over the initial shock and three long, gruelling hours of discussing every fact, including every painful detail of Louis’ attack, he sat back in his chair, rocking it slightly with his weight. He stared at Louis, who looked incredibly small sat behind the large oak conference table and nodded slowly, digesting everything he’d just acquired. 

“Right.” He turned to one of the many folders he had open on the desk before him, skimming through the pages as if checking he’d missed something.

Ivan sat, fingers laced in-between his wife’s, opposite Louis and Niall. He waited with baited breath to hear what he was going to say. Of course, he was of ultimate power of the collective people in the room with his position as county Judge however the mass perjury he’d committed could possibly cost him his job. Sean had every right to report this further, regardless of the case they had against Des and if that happened his title would be ripped out from underneath him faster than he could cry for an appeal.

“Okay.”

The one word repetition only added to the five hundred layers of tension from the four individuals in the room. 

Louis shuffled a little in his plastic chair, peering down at his black vans and frowning when he saw a shoe lace had come loose.

“Well, from what I can see it’s clear there is only one feasible option.”

Pamela closed her eyes as she felt the squeeze of her husband’s hand.

“We need to take this fucker down.” With a concluding slap of the folder on the desk, he nodded. Four pairs of lungs let go of the longest breath they’d held by and large.

"Fucking yes!" Niall pumped his fists mid air revelling in momentary glory.

"So you think it's going to be that easy?" Pamela inquired softly from the other side of the table.

"Well I wouldn't put your victory bunting up just yet, we've got a hell of a fight on our hands and I don't mean in terms of evidence, I mean the toll it's going to take on you." Sean continued, pacing the end of the table, he couldn't keep still while his mind was running a hundred miles an hour, "We have everything we need to take him on, first and foremost the drug results once we get Harry on board, will prove out case out right. The corresponding letters between yourself Ivan and Des are also paramount. Plus, the surveillance footage you speak of, we can easily gain access to that the instant we detain him."

"Plus, all our statements, all of it will fall in line won't it?"

Sean nodded, picked up a file again, "Yep. Definitely. We have him by the balls. I just have to apologise in advance for the shit storm you're all about to undergo in the coming weeks."

"Not everyone is going to be so understanding, regardless of our solid case, regardless of how Des is completely at fault some members of the public won't be able to look past the fact I withheld the truth," Ivan stared at the bottom of his glass, "nor will they quite be so understanding of your, _bond_."

He looked to Louis, who hadn't said a word for a good few minutes, letting the babble of technical legalities go up and over his head. He really wasn't bothered about his public image, never cared greatly for what people thought of him and wasn't going to start now. All he wanted, was for this to be over. To see Harry come through the other end on top. All he wanted, was Harry.


	20. 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet has been out for two days. What a mess. Happy 4th to any American readers, I hope you have/had a blessed day.

_\- Six days later -_

 

Harry comes to that Friday at some minute to five in the evening. 

He rolls over, feeling every other muscle crunch and ache as they abide to his movements, slow and testing as his hazy thoughts clear like clouds after a storm. And boy was the storm destructive. Rubbing the stickiness from his eyes he just about managed to focus on the clock hanging on the far wall. He vaguely remembers coming in here and seeing the hand striking 7:30AM so he’s been out cold all day. 

When he’s picked himself up from the unnatural position he’d been lying in on the sofa in one of the ten guest bedrooms he went about cracking every crackable bone in his body. Not because he wanted to, but because if he didn’t he wouldn’t get much further than the empty bottle of rum that had been thrown half way across the room.

Mumbling a curse or three as he stepped over a few cushions and shards of glass he tried to put last night’s events together. The drug had taken one last brutal toll on him and this morning he woke to a clearer head but a crippled body, having endured a four day stretch of complete disconnection from reality.

He bent over, hissing at the ever present pinch in his lower back and collected the empty bottle.

The taste in his mouth was foul. He swallowed and stopped in his travels as the scene he was met with was fouler. 

Smashed photo frames, scattered papers and broken ornaments were littered along the hallway. Harry stepped over a large candle arbor and peered over the banister, his hope that downstairs would be better diminished, only grew more confused as it was anything if not worse. More discarded miscellaneous items were scattered along the floor, frames barely hanging off their fixtures.

Upon descending the endless stairs into the foyer his mind raced at the sound of running water. 

He placed the bottle on the table next to one of the coat hangers and sped off towards the source. The first kitchen. Hands gripping the door frame for dear life, he came to a slippery halt, feet nearly toppling over due to the soaked floor. 

“ _Shit_ …” He tread carefully through the water that had over flowed from the taps. He sighed through a shaky breath holding onto the tap once he’d closed the flow. Luckily, they’d been left on a slow release and not full, but it was enough to flood the entire kitchen and start seeping out onto the two adjoining corridors. 

Segments of the past few days kept rolling back to him at random intervals. 

As he showered and scrubbed away the dried blood, he sees himself going into his Father’s old study and pulling apart the book cases. Throwing the globe that had been resting on the mantle piece against the window, shattering the glass on impact.

Brushing his teeth he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and saw the small cuts to his jaw, eyes flickering at the faint memory of chip wood and decking. He paused with a toothbrush hanging out the corner of his mouth, glanced at his battered knuckles, the splinters. The last quarter of the mansion to be renovated would need to be started from scratch.

Half way through mopping up the mess in the main kitchen, he stops a couple of distinct visions of smashing up a car. Which, of all the things he’s ever wanted to destroy his vehicles were the last. Two of them were classics, a vintage Mercedes convertible and a 1964 Aston Martin DB5 which he really hoped out of all of them, were still in tact. The other three were more replaceable; 2014 Bentley Continental, 2015 Range Rover Evoque and an all black Audi A6. His Father kept the rest. 

It was 8:32PM by the time he’d even thought about food despite spending nearly an hour and a half in a kitchen. Holding no great desire to eat but deciding it’s in his better interests to try to keep from passing out he trudged down the steps into the basement kitchen instead.

He automatically flicked the television on for background noise as he opened the cupboard door which held the remains of whatever packet food he had left to his disposal. Robert, the grocery man, hadn’t cared to visit in the past week or so. 

With the lack of an appetite and complete misery he snatched a ready meal, piercing the lid carelessly. It was the sixth laceration in when he heard the news lady say something that made him nearly drop the knife. He stopped, meal long forgotten and turned around slowly, not trusting his ears.

“… _and is currently under house arrest at his Father’s plea of insanity. Under these shocking revelations that have come to light today, Desmond Styles is set to be trialled in court where his son will be expected to join, alongside Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan and Judge Ivan Sutton himself to give evidence_ …”

Harry dropped the knife. He didn’t hear the clang of the blade on the tiles, didn’t flinch once as he reached for the remote to turn up the volume. The only thing he could hear was _Sandra Williams_ , BBC News reporter reel off the ‘ _breaking news_ ’ report in her matter of fact tone. Eyes were only focused on the video clip that played beside her of ‘ _respected professional, Dr Desmond Styles_ ’ being hauled out of his office building in the city by authorities, hands cuffed. 

His fingertips buzzed as he brought them through his damp hair, pushing back the strands as he closed his mouth for the first time in a whole minute. This couldn’t be real. He hadn’t woken up hours ago to a messy house. This was a dream. How else would this be possible?

Either that or the drugs. The aftermath of having such a heavy load of poison shoved inside him. Yeah, Harry was certain this was his sickening low after the high; hallucinating about his deepest desires. 

Hesitating whether to stay and listen to the rest of the story or run up the stairs he stared into nowhere, eyes flitting from the remote then back to the television.

Three seconds later he was clambering up the stone steps two at a time to be met with the scene that he’d left not ten minutes before. The stuff was still on the floor, the house was definitely still a wreck and the kitchen - with shallow breaths, he raced down the corridors until he came to the kitchen and yes, _yes_ the mop bucket and horrendously large pile of towels were still there.

This was real. 

_This was fucking real._

Harry looked around himself, suddenly at an extreme loss of what happens next, like this moment was something he’d been working up to his entire life and now it was here he didn’t know what to do. An amazingly light feeling, hope maybe, fluttered in his stomach, smeared through his tortured mind. He was _free_. Well, with a short check of reality it means at the very least he certainly had a fine shot at it.

This also meant no cameras. 

Nobody was going to chase him down.

Harry couldn’t remember getting into the garage, but that’s where he found himself. Quickly taking note - and a sigh of relief - of the state of his smashed up Bentley he hurriedly searched the rack for some keys. Any keys will do, any car will do, he just needed to get moving, needed to right his most prudent wrong pronto. 

“Fucking _bastard_!” Harry’s voice bellowed as recollection settled in, slamming his palm into the brick wall.

As punishment, Des had taken the car keys away from him so a similar situation to the Doncaster incident couldn’t repeat itself. Not that he could; Harry had never known the code to his alarm system or gates to be able to be able to open them, it was only because of Niall and his expertise in all things technical that the entire security system went down that day. Harry had taken the Audi to the wedding to ensure he didn’t stand out too much; it was only an Audi after all and they were common as anything. But those keys were gone. The classics too, had gone. Harry kicked at the boxes, anger flaring. Not only was it to stop him from ever getting out the house but Des knew Harry would every so often like to pull the cars out onto the forecourt and polish them up, give them a good clean and without the keys, that wouldn’t be impossible.

Harry searched and searched. 

He really didn’t fancy hot-wiring his vintage beauties, really couldn’t be bothered with putting the ignition back together again after doing so. But then he remembered something that got him vaulting over the hood of his Aston Martin, round the front end of his worse for wear Bentley and straight to the other side of the 2,400 square ft garage. Running his hand along the top of a wooden shelf just out of eye sight, collecting an alarming amount of dust at his fingertips on the way, he ran his fingers right off the edge when he knocked something cold and small. 

_Bingo_. Spare key. He figured out a long time ago there was only one blind spot in the entire estate, the one place where no camera covered and it was those last few square metres of this far corner of the garage. He’d hidden a spare key to his Range Rover and well, Bentley up here not having access to any of the others. 

Range it is then.

 

*

 

“What’s your Mam say?”

Louis patted the spot next to him on the sofa to let Spok join him. And with a high pitched yap he did just that, brushing a wet nose thankfully against his human’s face before curling up instantly.

“She -ew Spok no _ew_ ” He leant back, really not appreciating the post-meal dog breath, “she’s coming down first thing tomorrow so I’m going to talk to her properly then.”

Niall leant against the window pane, looking at but not really watching the flickering images on the television. 

“You gonna’ tell her about Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“About what he did to Dan.” Niall really hoped he’d say no, really, really, real-

“I dunno.” Well it was better than yes, “Definitely not before all of this is over with, but even after that, would it benefit her knowing? Because even after she’s heard all of this about Harry and his d- Des, I don’t think she’ll feel quite as sorry for him if she learns that he was the guy responsible for her comatose fiance.”

Louis wasn’t prepared for the turbulence that was ahead. His chest tightened at the thought of seeing his Mother.

“Yeah but, don’t you think it’ll make her think twice about believing you?” He was careful to place his words sensitively, “You know, the fact you’ve told someone else about it I mean.”

“Maybe…” Louis mumbled, eyes pinned to the spot he was petting behind Spok’s ear, “I don’t want to think about that.”

He didn’t have much else to think about as all he had to do was be honest, stand up in court and give his side to it as honestly and thoroughly as possible and along with everything else that would be enough. But it was just _going_ through it. His story being out there, repeating it all and having to relive it. 

He ran a hand along the short soft panel of fur on Spok’s forehead, the spot between his eyes that sends him off into the land of nod.

“It’s going to be Hell on earth Ni.”

“Speaking of which,” Niall cleared his throat with a balled fist to his mouth, “please tell me you’re not going to see him before any of this takes off.”

Louis looked up through a knitted brow, “Who, Harry?” 

Just the sound of his name was enough to bring back that tug in his stomach. He realised how he hadn’t physically spoken his name for a couple of days. Everyone else around him, reporters, policeman, Niall, pretty much everyone he’d encountered recently had asked him so many questions about him, constantly probing for information that it’d bypassed him that he hadn’t answered any of them using his name. Yet it didn’t feel out of place, felt more like home. 

Niall nodded. 

“It’s pretty clear now that he isn't and never has been the real evil here, so why should I fear him?” God he missed him.

With a sneerful edge to his laugh, Niall walked over to the boy and applied the lightest pressure onto the fading, but discernible finger marks around his neck, “Need I say more?”

“Stop.” Louis wasn’t angry, just didn’t need to hear it again. “This was the drugs talking, he’ll be clear of them by now so-”

The front door was nearly knocked through with a symphony of impatient raps on the frosted glass. Niall stood back up and shuffled out of the living room, kicked his feet as he did so, feeling pretty exhausted and wondering who could be bothering them at this time in the evening.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Louis’ fingers stilled on the sofa, craning his neck so he could hear. 

The callous voice that came on a short but muffled reply was all Louis needed to launch off the cushion, leaving a bewildered Spok to stir in his absence and steam towards the doorway from which he stopped dead at the person half of Niall’s back was concealing. 

“Harry.” 

Green eyes instantly found him over Niall’s shoulder, so dissimilar to the last time he’d faced them but still not lacking any of their magnitude. 

The apprehension that was present on the sofa moments before melted away. Louis could feel his entire body twitching to life as if awakening to something new, something it’d been waiting for and was innately drawn to as once again, those eyes did all the talking, face softening upon the instant Louis came into view. Harry’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he saw the one thing making all of this worth it.

“You saw the news?”

“Yes,” It was raining now and Harry’s hair was slowly becoming wetter by the second, strands sticking to the side of his face, “I came straight here.”

The collar of his coat was pulled up, shielding the bare skin of his neck from the downpour.

“Y-you’re, I mean the drugs, are they…” Louis was struggling to find a polite way of saying it.

“I’m good.” Turns out he didn’t need to.

Niall however, stuck in the middle of this stare off, was ruffled. And pointed a finger in the middle of Harry’s tight nod.

“Okay hold on how did- oh for fucks sake get inside will ya,” Placing the bravest hand he’d ever braced on the material of Harry’s sweater he tugged his chest forward, “scare the fuckin’ neighbours… how did you know this was our house?”

Harry stepped in, long legs reaching over the doorstep and looked straight at Louis. The strange high he’d been riding for the past twenty minutes or so came crashing down when he saw the healing cut on his cheekbone, the markings around his jaw and neck. He lingered on them, too long to go unnoticed and Louis shuffled his feet when he realised, dipping his head. The most painful memory of all came back to him then and Harry stilled at it, mind ablaze with images that clawed at the inside of his throat. It wasn’t like he had forgotten, he could never forget, but it wasn’t a scene he likes to reminisce. 

Grinding his teeth he forced himself to look away, wiping his feet on the welcome mat. Louis looked at the action through long lashes and his soft heart thrummed at the domesticity. 

Niall closed the door, bringing the boys straight back to reality. 

Louis chimed in, a finger raising up as if he were addressing his professor.

“Oh, I might’ve mentioned it in passing, but I only said something about the street because I was telling him about the city plan I was comprising for my cour-”

Niall’s eyes got so wide Louis was ready to catch them if they popped out, “You did _what_?”

He glared at Louis like he was one tiny exposed brain cell and nothing more until Harry’s voice, octaves lower than the both of theirs rippled through the air between them.

“-you also told me about the car you and Niall shared, so when I saw it parked outside I put two and two together.”

“So let me get this straight,” Harry rolled his lips, dimple popping at his efforts to try and hide his sudden amusement. Louis bit his lip in his own mighty efforts, “you quite happily told a - and no offence mate but given situation and that - raging psychopath our roundabouts address, including a free copy of our car registration yet you throw a fit if I use my real name, email or phone number when we order dominoes? Or _any_ take-out for that matter.”

Niall had a tether and this right here and brought him to the end of it. 

“Oh and you,” He swivelled his body round to the taller boy, “my god what if this wasn’t actually our house Harry? Did you even think about that? Your face is _literally_ all over the fuckin’ news everybody knows who you are, you think it’d be just groovy if you showed up at their door at nine in the evening?”

Harry frowned at the clearly troubled blonde, looking down at his mismatched socks when he opened his mouth to reply only for a softer voice to overtake again. 

“Ignore him, he missed the antiques roadshow and he’s vexed,” Louis carried on over Niall’s sudden insistent spluttering about how it’s an under appreciated program, “besides Ni, that’s not the biggest issue right now.”

When their eyes met again, something intimate was shared. A message that Louis had finally come to understand, after all this time. A message Harry was able to convey, without restraint for the very first time. It was a so very raw, so honest and pure of a look that any witness to it couldn’t deny the unspoken words it held in it’s weight.

Niall was a red blooded male himself and definitely didn’t miss it. He just never considered this a possibility.

“Louis…” Niall was looking at Harry when he said it, but neither of them were looking at him, “ _Lou_.”

Louis had closed the space between him and Harry, gently pulling the damp strands of hair away from such charming features that didn’t do to have obstructions, “Hm?”

Harry was watching dainty fingers fiddle idly with themselves as they fell from their occupation on his hair, suddenly shy. His heart warmed, he needed this boy on his own.

“We need to talk.” 

Blue eyes so pretty it almost made Harry vow his life to him, sprung upwards, as if he were waiting to be addressed. The soft patter of rain grew a little heavier in the background and Louis looked back down again, fiddling with the skin around his nails.

“I know.”

“Am I, missing something?” Niall looked between the odd couple. Spok trotted through the doorway, pausing momentarily at the new face.

“Spok.” Harry fussed the dog, tail wagging from the attention. 

Niall was starting to wonder if there were anything Harry _didn’t_ know.

“This is weird,” Niall was just about coming to terms with the idea Harry might become a friend in the distant future but the thought of him being anything more to Louis or anyone else in his close circle was going to take a few weeks - or therapy sessions - to adjust, “this is just all weird, what do you actually want Harry?”

So many answers, but they all equated to the ethereal creature before him, blue eyes searching his own.

“Louis.”

Harry didn’t even mean to say it. Louis wasn’t expecting him to say it and Niall, well he wasn’t sure about anything right now.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what to say either after that, stood there broad and broody in a tiny hallway that made him stick out even more. 

“I know a place.” 

“A place?” 

“To go. For us, to go and talk.”

Niall's mouth fell open. 

Louis’ eyebrows met his hairline so fast he feared they’d get lost. He peered down at his ensemble of post shower sweats, and then back to Harry’s post downpour soddenness. 

“Oh… kay, let me just grab a jacket or something.” 

Before the last word was out his mouth, Harry was shouldering off his long black coat and holding it out for Louis to step into.

“Take mine.”

Louis delayed a second before thanking him with a quiet voice and turned a little so the item could fall over his shoulders. He’d already decided against putting his arms through because he knew how it’d bury him and as it cloaked his back his prediction was spot on; the fact the coat fell to just above his ankles was enough said.

He definitely didn’t inhale a little deeper from the powerful scent that saturated his senses. 

“Shouldn’t I just… phone, I’ll get my phone,” Once back from the front lounge, phone in hand, he looked back to Harry, “do I need anything else?”

Harry shook his head and beckoned behind himself, “You won’t need anything, just yourself. Come on.”

This was fine. This was happening all very fast but it was fine. Harry was going to take him some place to talk and he had his phone and everything was fine.

This was the most bizarre day to date.

Harry reached into the pocket of his coat, suddenly very close to Louis, to retrieve his keys. Reopening the door he didn’t waste any time and beeped the car open, telling Louis to rush before turning to Niall who hadn’t blinked for an alarming amount of time, only watched, powerless. 

“Niall,” He nodded, “breathe.”


	21. 21

“Just answer me one thing.” Louis shuffled onto his side, knees bent up to his chest.

Harry told him as they pulled out of the end of his street this wasn’t how they were going to have the conversation. Told him to relax for now, rest and he’ll wake him when they arrive. 

“Shoot.”

“How on earth did you get through the gates?”

Harry checked his rear view mirror and kicked into fifth gear now they had reached a more open road on the edge of the small town. Running a couple of red lights made the process a lot quicker.

“Let’s just say, the alarm system is redundant.”

“…you mean, you unwired it?”

Harry fiddled with the air conditioning, eyes flitting from the road to the screen.

“In a fashion.”

Moments later Harry stopped any further questioning, insisted Louis get some sleep and with a little resistance Louis did just that. Heat turned right up, feeling inexplicably safe with present company and the sound of the vehicle purring around him, he slipped away into a gentle slumber. 

An hour or so later Louis extended his legs out to their fullest and pushed his hands downwards to stretch his arms that had been tucked into him, curled up like a cat on the reclined seat. The movement caught Harry’s attention and he turned his head to witness this - and he had to admit - adorable scene unfold. A tired mewling noise escaped his lips, huffing as he turned around in the seat. His hair was stuck down one side and sticking up in all kinds of unruly distress on the other, the material of his shirt riding up to reveal a bare hip bone as he swivelled his torso, coat having been draped over the back seat. Harry swallowed.

Louis’ eyes were barely open, but were so watery they sparkled like the night sky that was casting over them right now. They eventually closed again and he nuzzled his face into the leather.

"ry af me nomt.. " Was all Harry could make out.

"English please." 

Louis sighed, swallowed and tucked one leg up into himself again.

“Why… have we stopped?" His voice was nothing more than a croaky whisper and it was irritatingly endearing.

Harry took the key out of the ignition and unhooked his belt before he reached for handle and said, “Because we’re here.”

This made Louis’ eyes ping back open and he pushed himself up enough so he could peer out of the front window. All carried out a little too fast though and his vision wavered for a second, a numb pain tearing through his forehead from the dizziness.

He could hear Harry clambering about in the trunk for a second and took his own seatbelt off, just about to open the door when Harry beat him to it, standing with one hand on the door he outstretched the other for Louis to take.

Louis peered up at the building before him, tall, overpowering and stunk of classic grandeur. Much like the person beside him. 

“Come on Louis, inside.”

“Where are we Harry?” Harry draped the coat over his shoulders again, making sure he was warm before handing his keys to the valet.

“Colosseum.”

They were in the City, right in the middle, Louis recognised the name. 

“Harold,” Harry couldn’t hide his fond towards the name, letting Louis go before him into one of the revolving gold trimmed doors, “it’s a tad pricey, what are we doing here?”

“Money is no hindrance, especially not here anyway.”

Harry stalked straight up to the counter, glancing at the woman behind the desk and before she even registered his presence he spoke.

“Caitlyn, good evening,” Louis had never seen someone stand up so quickly, the woman’s eyes widening at the stack of a man before her, “Is Suite 104 occupied? If not I’ll be taking it tonight, keep it quiet.”

“ _Harry_ \- sir I mean, oh my-,” She was struggling to process all of the information being presented, “Yes, yes it is.” Obviously she, like the rest of the locals had heard about his case on the news today and was still recovering from the shock. But then here he is, in public for the first time in over a year, with the boy who she also recognised from the news report, requesting the suite for the night.

Harry nodded, gave a forced smile.

“Absolutely, I’ll inform John. It’s so wonderful to see you.” It was obvious she wanted to say so much more, her face a weird mixture of pity, surprise and a sort of sadness. Harry forgave it. 

“As it is you, Caitlyn. I trust we’ll have no interruptions, enjoy your evening.” He retrieved the key card off the polished surface and walked away without waiting for a reply.

Louis smiled at her awkwardly before being guided away by Harry. Getting sidetracked by the luxurious design of the bar he could just catch a glimpse of through the large doorway to his right, he opened his mouth slowly, dragging his eyes back towards the man walking a step ahead. 

More than a couple of heads snapped and followed on their passing, hushed whispers that made Louis walk a little faster.

“Er, so since when are you a sir?”

Harry came to a stop before another man, an employee, who greeted them politely and opened one of the mirrored elevator doors for them. Once inside and the doors closed again, Harry tipped his chin in a manner which told Louis to elaborate.

“That lady, she nearly wet herself when she corrected you as sir.” Louis didn’t know why it amused him.

“Certainly, as owner I expect nothing less.”

And _of course_ Harry owned a hotel. Obviously. Stupid Louis.

“I’m sorry, _owner_?”

“Yes, now my Father is looking at life imprisonment all rights of his businesses hereby go to the next of kin,” Harry picked off a piece of lint from the lapel of his coat, “me.”

The elevator dinged to a stop and Louis’ stomach was in his throat. He wasn’t sure whether it were because of the motion or pretty much everything else that sent his nerves off balance.

“Even if he doesn’t get found guilty, the contract still stands.” Harry finished, beckoning for Louis to leave before him.

The double white doors beeped as they granted access. Inside, it smelt of raspberries. And money.

Now totally alone and both conscious, they felt equally nervous. Perhaps a little angry, frustrated at the hand they’d been dealt. They both knew from the second Harry lapsed eyes on him in Louis’ flat earlier things were about to take a drastic change and now finally granted complete privacy, the mood had merged into something of more urgent, strung out expectations. 

They had to re learn every piece of the other. 

“Louis.”

“I don’t want you to apologise for any of it.” Louis held up a hand, non obtrusive as he swivelled on his heels in the middle of the sitting area.

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to touch on how I feel.” Liquid green eyes located the harsh markings on Louis’ otherwise flawless skin, stomach turning slightly with the knowledge he put them there.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like that, stop punishing yourself for something _you_ didn’t do.”

“But I-”

“-Harry, you know what I mean.” 

He didn’t note the interjection this time around, too taken by the inconceivably beautiful boy standing bare feet away. He possessed an inability to process what he’d done to be so worthy of his consistent presence. 

“I understand Louis, if you never want to talk to me again after tonight, even with all this,” He opened his arms, palms up at the surrounding grand room, “I won’t try and stop you.”

“You really think I would’ve taken a nap while you had control of the wheel if I didn’t feel comfortable enough, you think if I didn’t want us to do this I’d have left my home with nothing but my phone as salvage only to walk back out again?” Louis pouted, looking at the fresh fruit basket on the table, “Besides, it’s too far to walk and I haven’t got any money for a taxi so.”

Harry smiled, tried to hide it, but couldn’t, shaking his head on a small chuckle meanwhile Louis wished he could make those dimples permanent. He took the two steps down into the lounge, joining Louis. 

“Well alright then, now I know I have you for the night at least.”

Louis’ eyes glittered more than the brightest star, “Right through til’ morning.”

Harry strung a finger along his chain, fiddling with the small cross, smile fading as his trail of thought came back around.

“How did you do it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis shook his head, running fingers along his fringe to tame it, a habit Harry has come to quite adore, “you’re going to hear enough about it all in the next few days, the plan is to go to your home tomorrow and wait, what did they call it… I can’t remember the technical terms but they want to start lifting your charge.”

Harry nodded, listening intently to every word.

“Father was arrested today?”

“Yeah, but things were put into place about five days ago.”

Harry was suddenly too aware of how close they were, feet seeming to have a mind of their own.

“Why has no one told me before now?”

Louis’ chest constricted, “There has been an urgency to get you into the loop since the word go Harry, there’s nothing I wanted to do more, in fact I was planning on telling you everything when I came round that day but-,” He stopped. 

Harry hung his head, guilt settling in every corner of his body.

“Harry I had to tell them everything, they agreed to wait until tomorrow, after Des’s arrest to collect you.” Louis didn’t want Harry to blame himself for anything more ever again, wanted to assure him that he understood, “They just had to make sure you were clear of any influence before stepping foot in your home.” 

Harry trailed two fingers and a thumb down the sides of his mouth, pinching his bottom lip a little, flexing his tense jaw. He figured that was the reason, but hearing it made things a little more bona fide. 

“But I really don’t want to talk about any of that, like I said we’re going to have plenty of time for all that.”

Whether it was appropriate or not, there was something else sitting heavily above their heads. 

“Alright. We’ll save the details.”

Louis let his head fall to the side, lashes fanning out on his cheek as he looked down, “Until the morning.”

Yeah, it was sitting very heavy now.

“I thought my Father’s plan had finally worked and with what I did to you, the things I said,” He shook his head, looking down to his feet trying to simmer the all too familiar rage at the thought of it, “I thought it would scare you off for good.”

“Harry you plank listen to me, you don’t have to worry about any of that. I knew something was wrong all along, from the way Des was with you and then the letter,” Louis leant against the table, opposite to the lamp, “I just needed to gain enough evidence to solidify anything, just had to make sure you weren’t the monster you were being portrayed to be.”

“I know.”

“You what?”

“Louis, we both know any worthy therapist would never suggest you being within a square mile of your attacker so soon, so the bullshit story about it aiding your recovery was as transparent as the first shaky breath you took to explain it to me.”

Louis gasped, mouth curved into an amused arch and he ran a pink tongue along the front of his teeth.

“First off, I’m a _brilliant_ liar so I know I had you fooled no matter what you say and secondly,” He looked up with a serious cast, “watch your language.”

The teasing comment was innocent enough but it definitely piled another layer into the air, adding to pull of the inevitable.

“Granted, I have a lot of making up to do,” Harry’s expression shifted, as did Louis’ posture, shuffling a little at the look, “doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“Those are the rules.”

“Rules?”

“Rules. Understood?” 

Harry had marched into his life quite unexpectedly and he hadn’t been prepared for a single thing that was due to come catapulting his way from then on. He hadn’t been ready for the ambush of overwhelming juxtaposing emotions he’d be fighting, the rush he got from the simplest of things in his presence. He felt like an adrenaline junkie getting his fix every single time.

“Yes,” Louis flitted his eyes down a fraction, swallowing at the gap that was being closed between them by Harry, “ _Sir_.”

Harry’s eyes were focused, his lids were low but vision crystal clear. 

This is how they’d always been - like these parallel lines running alongside each other, constantly on the same wavelength, right there to touch but never being able to. Until now.

He didn’t want to cloud his thoughts with unnecessary analysis, didn’t want to overthink it. The signs were there. The hunger was there for the both of them and if Louis didn’t feel it too then Harry would sign him up for performing arts college himself.

“That’s more like it.”

Louis’ eyes did the thing he needed them to do and flitted down his front, lip being softly bitten. His fingers twitched on their post beside himself.

Before the moment reached it’s peak, Harry stepped forward and grabbed his face in his hands, the warm flush of Louis’ cheeks burning against his palms. His perfectly shaped bottom lip quivered and the realisation hit him how hard this has to be for him; if he felt overwhelmed then goodness knows what Louis’ feeling, it’d been so long since either of them had any real intimacy. First _real_ time for Louis altogether.

Their faces were so close they could feel the breath of the other’s hot and trembling. Dipping his head, he kissed him then. Soft and testing, letting them rest against each other for a few moments. Louis resisted a little at first, slow to react to those insane lips that were finally pressed against his own but after the initial shock subsided, he melted into them, giving Harry the green light.

With strong hands still angling Louis’ face gently upwards he snaked them round to tangle in the feathery softness of his hair, tugging the strands between his fingers lightly. Tilting his head from the action Harry deepened the kiss and traced his tongue against the contour of his tender lips as they parted enabling him to taste his sweet tongue as he ran it across his own. 

As quickly as it started though, it stopped. Louis pushed Harry away by a fraction, not to get him to get off just to stop. He wouldn’t get far anyway, looking at his small hands resting on his steadily rising and falling chest, the solidness of it making him feel weak but protected simultaneously.

“Everything alright?”

And for the first time in a long time Louis could answer truthfully, through and through.

“Yeah, I just-,” Nothing. He just nothing, was just a little overwhelmed. He nodded, eyes crinkling as a slow smile stretched to life, “everything is perfect.”

Wild blue eyes searched Harry’s strong features, following the captivating way he rolled his lips, smacking them together. He spread his palms wide, letting one of them run down his torso, feeling every bump and curve of the substantial muscle that lay beneath. He bundled up the fleece material of the sweatshirt and looked up, an expression that sent clear messages to Harry’s groin.

He scooped Louis up in an instant, two strong arms hoisting toned thighs onto his hips with astonishing ease, coaxing a small gasp followed by a set of infantile giggles from the boy.

“Let me take care of you,” His thick smokey voice diffused along the side of his neck, peppering kisses along the tender area, “come on baby.”

He carried a suddenly tinier than he thought possible Louis into the bedroom, not quite ready for the separation that came with letting go he set Louis’ back down on the mattress, thighs still spread either side of his waist and loomed forward over him. 

Another kiss, still as gentle but a little heavier, Harry sucked on the plumpness of his lower lip. The release they felt from kissing each other alone was paramount, Louis wasn’t quite sure he was ready to handle much more thrill, his beating heart quickening with each lewd run of Harry’s tongue.

“Okay sweetheart, why don’t you help me with this,” Harry sat back between his supple thighs, hands panning over the smooth skin until he was fully sat back with Louis’ bum raised a little towards his crotch. He pinched the material of his sweatshirt and smirked at Louis’ sudden flush.

“Don’t be shy.” Harry traced fingertips down his shins and encircled his ankles, so delicate.

Louis sat up on his knees with the help of Harry, blush deepening when he saw Harry’s liquid green eyes slip down to the growing swell of his groin. Blinking a couple of times, he reached forward and pulled the top upwards and much like the first time he’d witnessed Harry’s bare chest in his bedroom that day, it took his breath away. Literally. He watched as the material revealed a set torso, silver chain catching on the way, studying every muscle that allowed the action to come to be. 

“Good boy and oh-,” Harry quirked an eyebrow at Louis already taking off his own graphic t-shirt, throwing it to the ground beside the bed, “you do learn fast Louis. But next time,” Harry leant forward and with a quick movement, snapped Louis’ legs from underneath him, so he could lean over him once more, “wait to be told.”

Louis flicked the stray bits of his fringe to the side, nodding. “Sorr- _ah_ ,” Harry nibbled just beneath his jaw, tracing a wet tongue over the attack to soothe it.

All the things that he’d noted so begrudgingly the first time they met, the same things he’d been trying _not_ to notice ever since, now were unescapable and filling his senses, so weak to their pull. Large hands had his wrists pinned into the pillow above their heads, the heady dominance was too instilled in Harry for him to be anything but. 

“Are you going to let me,” Harry transferred both of Louis’ wrists into the confines of one of his hands, easily holding the slim appendages. He slid the other between them, made sure to graze his bulge on the way and slipped it between Louis’ thighs, “taste you here?”

Louis raised his hips at the touch, wanting more of that wondrous pressure. But just as the breathy moans came bubbling out his throat, he had a thought. How far did he want to push this.

“I don’t know if - _ah_ \- if I’ll like it.” He wanted to see where his cheek would get him, adrenaline at large. Louis had to clamp down on his tongue to stop from giggling, failing miserably anyway when he was flipped over at the expense of two crafty hands, large and firm around his middle. 

“Really?” Harry rasped, low and dangerous as he tugged the soft sweats to his ankles, along with his white boxers. He traced his mouth up and over the sinful curve of his bottom, stopping to bluntly bite the supple flesh, “So you don’t think you’d enjoy it if I maybe…” Exposing the delicious sight, he reigned in the urgency sparking a fire in his gut and ran the tip of his tongue along his taint, “did a little…” tapped the tip at his entrance to make it flutter at the barely there contact, “…something.”

Louis slid his bottom lip through his teeth, pushing his face into the pillow at the gentle but rousing sensation. 

“N-nope...”

“Hmm.” Harry flattened his tongue this time, running it from the bottom of his taint and straight over his hole very, very slow.

Louis’ body reacted in ways he’d never experienced. He physically felt the hairs raise on his skin, the excitement build in his lower tummy. Harry’s tongue was skilfully navigating the most intimate area, making him bite the pillow to keep from dragging his name out on an embarrassingly high whine.

Harry hummed and sucked a kiss onto the space just below his now glistening pink hole. He repeated it around the tightness, securing Louis’ writhing hips down into the mattress when he started to push back onto it.

“Is that good baby?” Harry pulled off with a wet pop, his own lips cherry red and looked up to see the flush that he already knew was there, another jolt to his neglected cock.

Louis desperately tried to swallow the breathlessness, the neediness in his voice as he muffled his face back into the pillow. He couldn’t let Harry know he was _that_ good _this_ soon. 

“ _Mm_ -s’okay.” Louis fisted the cotton sheets, pulling hard. 

Harry spread him wider, thumbs rubbing small circles into the plump mounds of Louis’ bottom as he let his tongue travel carefully, slowly up and over his hole once more, circling it and sucking the rim before pushing past the tight muscle. The taste of Louis so fresh in his mouth, the sensation of his throbbing hole around his tongue was a true test to his will. Hands tightened on their position at Louis’ narrow hips.

“Oh- _ohh g_ -,” Maybe some things just weren’t deniable. 

And as Louis felt his insides getting licked and prodded by an unfairly skilful tongue he couldn’t help but come apart. He snaked a hand down beneath his torso and the mattress, which was a tight fit because of Harry’s overbearing strength pinning his lower half, but Harry saw the movement and wasn’t going to allow it. He pulled away from his delicacy instantly and pinned both Louis’ arms to his side, annoyed at his early departure; he could spend all night between those legs. 

“No touching remember,” Harry pulled himself up, after peering at the swollen and leaking state of Louis’ cock pressed against the bed, he leant forward so Louis would feel his breath again at his ear, “and you’re a terrible liar.”

Fingers coming down his side, a wrist snapped forward causing the adequately sized palm to slap his ass. The delicious bite chasing his pulse even quicker.

Louis felt liberated. Trusting a grown man with his body for the first time, allowing himself to explore the regions of another he’d dared not until now, ashamed of the connotations it brought. But there was no shame to be felt tonight, there was only love. And it’s taken a while but as Harry’s hands ran up the sides of his body, a thin layer of air between their torsos, he realised that’s all there ever has been. 

He was in love with Harry Styles.

“I love you.” Celestial in all forms but literal Harry took the words right out of his mouth, stole them with an easy smile and sealed it with a whisper of a kiss. 

He’d spoken the words so quietly as if to keep it their secret, to reassure him amongst all the heat that this was real, he was safe and it was all alright. Louis needed it, he needed and would take whatever Harry granted him. 

“I love you Harry.” Louis uttered his response back, naturally softer in tone, bumping their noses as they came in for another kiss, tasting himself on Harry’s tongue.

Every unspoken word between them poured into a physical act, as of right now they were able to disclose a lot more with their actions than their voices. The beating of their throats, the lips smacking at every opportunity, hands searching for more skin to mark, to claim, desperate and needy. 

Louis swore his heart skipped a beat at the sound of Harry’s buckle coming undone. 

This was what he would count as his virginity. Never would he deny his abuse, he’s never in a delusion as to what happened as it’s shaped the person he is today but this, this was something sacred. This was the first time he’d felt able to feed the sexual appetite he’d been working up for all these years, the first time he’d ever felt like he wanted to.

“You are the eighth addition to the seven deadly sins,” Harry growled, face buried in the crook of his neck, not wanting to miss an opportunity to taste the gift to which he’d been blessed. 

Louis twisted his body, whining, desperately trying to eliminate any gaps between their two forms. Harry’s trousers were off in a beat, along with everything else. He sat back and pulled the rest of Louis’ attire from his ankles adding to the sporadic piles on the floor around them. Back on top, he pulled Louis hips down to meet his bare arousal. 

Louis drew back in an instant and looked down between Harry’s legs. A gasp in his throat, Harry’s taste on his lips.

Being so well endowed had it’s obvious benefits. Subtlety, wasn’t one of them. 

“I…” Louis struggled in his aroused haze, there was so much he wanted, “ _Harry_.” Urgent as a cry for help, but breathy as a sigh.

“You have to tell me, sweetheart.” Harry stilled the movement of his hips, knowing the heavy pressure of his erection alone was enough. He rested their foreheads together, demanding eye contact. 

“I, I want you, H-Harry.” Louis’ couldn’t catch his breath, the arousal scorching his body, “ _fuck_ , fuck me, p-please, fuck me.”

Harry paused and groaned, pulling back from his venture as if he’d just remembered something. Louis frowned as he peeled himself up and off the bed and padded straight into the ensuite. There was the sound of one cupboard opening and closing before Harry came back through, a tube of something in his hand.

Harry held it up to show Louis, wiggling it, who just giggled but got a couple of nicks from sharp incisors on the inside of his thighs from doing so.

“Can’t have you in pain.” 

Louis gulped, about to make a point of how that’s inevitable with the great big sodding erection currently bobbing about between his thighs when a cold, wet finger was prodding at his hole. 

“Oh Harry fuck…” There was no time wasted in readying him as the finger had already worked its way inside, followed quickly - the bastard - by another one, “- _ah oh god Harry_.”

To Louis’ horror, Harry just grinned, wide and annoyingly beautiful, clamping down on his lower lip as his fingers assaulted his insides. It was all very bittersweet and confusing and Louis was just so horny he really didn’t know what he wanted. But he was pretty sure Harry did as those fingers were hitting that spot again and his breath hitched, back arching off the bed from the bolt of pleasure. 

“ _Ohh m’goodness-_ ” He was a string of salacious sounds. Tried to resist crying out every time but it was difficult when at the mercy of Harry Styles.

His eyes rolled back at the feeling, fists balling up the sheets either side. Louis thrashed his head to the side a couple of times, the stretch long forgotten as he was doing his best to get a look at Harry in this glorious position. But the longer he looked, the better it got, Harry’s hair falling forward every so often when he bent down and planted a kiss to different parts of him, biceps and forearms flexing along the way, the long line of his torso looking so strong, so inviting and then that dick.

Nope. Louis wasn’t going to cum this quickly. He hadn’t touched himself since the last time, he’d been a good boy and he deserved to have this done properly. 

“Ready sweetheart?” Harry pulled out, just as ruthlessly as he pushed in. 

Louis nodded, maybe a little enthusiastically, too turned on to care. Hoped the look of desperation on his face was enough to get Harry moving.

Humming, the vibration tickled Louis neck as he was at his jaw again. Warm and solid. Masculine and musky and Louis was going to pass out from this.

“Just one more thing for me,” Harry hushed the whimper and placed larger hands over the small ones pulling at his neck, “you’ve been so good for me this far.” He moved Louis hands south, steadily, until Louis realised and his finger tips were grazing the top side of Harry’s thick shaft. 

His mouth watered at the touch. Eyes fluttering, he shifted a little so he could wrap his hand around the length properly, just managing to make a full circle with the hold. Just.

“You’re..” 

“Don’t be scared.”

Louis couldn’t stop licking his lips. 

“Can I?”

Harry didn’t need to be asked, he moved forward on his knees and Louis shuffled back a little so he was resting a bit against the headboard, the upright position being primitive to the task. 

Harry braced one hand on the thick oak headboard, the other on the back of Louis head, there to guide if he needed it. It took no more than another lick of his lips for Louis to envelope the tip with his parted lips, sucking softly to seal tight. Harry looked down at the phenomenal sight with a furrowed brow, chocolate strands of hair falling to one side as he quickly pushed it back. As much as he was enjoying having a genuine, thrilling sexual experience drug free with this divine human, there wasn’t an entity in the world that could take away the minor kink he had for gagging and it took steady breaths, an explicably hard grip on the headboard and a serious mental word with himself to not drive his obscenely hard cock forward.

“ _Mm_ ,” He closed his eyes, hung his head back for a second at the delicious sensation, “that’s perfect.”

Louis did his best, his inexperienced mouth providing to be quite tactful after all. He flattened his tongue, along the underside of his shaft as he pulled out, rolling and flicking his tongue on the bundle of nerves beneath the tip when going down. It hit the back of his throat a couple of times, Harry desperately trying to not encourage it by keeping his hips stationary. But it didn’t stop the wet noises of Louis _nearly_ choking, the weight of an irresistible cock on his tongue too much a temptation that he found it difficult to not get carried away.

“Careful baby…” Harry’s pupils were blown, mind taking a turn for the sinister at Louis’ watery eyes looking up at him, pink lips still wrapped around his length.

Harry nearly splintered the headboard.

Louis pulled off, catching his breath only to start suckling on his swollen head, enjoying the taste of Harry’s pre cum a little too much and made a couple of sounds that vibrated from tip to base. Harry couldn’t trust himself after that. Tugging on his hair lightly with the hand resting there, he kept Louis head in position while he pulled out his stimulated length, a touch away from forcing it straight back in upon seeing the string of saliva threading from his lips. He wasn’t going to last long.

“Louis you’re something else, you’re so,” Harry bent forward and collected his face in his palms again, kissing him hard and firm before settling back and grabbing the tube from earlier and swiping a generous coat of lubrication over his stiff cock. He shuffled forward, pulling one of Louis’ legs to hook over his shoulder. 

It was never going to be pain free, but the stretch that came from Harry’s girth was a little shocking to say the least. 

“ _Oh my goodness please stop- please that’s_ ,” Louis shot forward, a hand reaching to flatten against Harry's naval, “oh my god.”

Harry did stop. And then he tried again, only to stop shortly after. It took a total of seven minutes and five attempts at movement to get Louis adjusted to the mammoth expanse. His level of tightness and Harry’s measurements were polar opposites and in the beginning stages, it’s not going to be an easy ride.

As much as Harry enjoyed overpowering well, everything, he didn’t want to see him hurt like that. So for a first, he was patient. Patient as a saint with his pulsating hardness sealed in such a tight, warm and wet sheath, threatening to bring him to the edge of what was going to be an immense orgasm any moment. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, shh.”

Louis’ moans oscillated from the back of his throat keeping his lips shut and pressed tight, trying to focus on one thing. Harry saw the fluctuating rise and fall of his little chest, running a wide palm up and down the thigh he had resting over his shoulder.

“I’ll take it slow, easy now… _good boy_ ,” Harry pushed his hips forward, breaths long and shaky as he kept a close watch on Louis’ face for any sign of struggle, “you’re taking me so well.”

The praise had Louis a wreck, pushing him to want to please. He worked through the sting, the bruising pressure of the intrusion, trying to take his mind to that one spot Harry is so gently nudging with the head right now. If he could just focus on that unworldly feeling he’d come to enjoy the stretch, the pleasure from the pain will come in time but for now, things needed to be slow and precise.

A few thrusts and hitched breaths later, they built a rhythm. Their bodies were slick with sweat, Harry’s arms holding himself up with bony fingers gripping the vast muscle in his biceps for anchorage as he ground his hips forward with precision, pulled back with careful stamina, something which was wearing thin; his balls swollen and tight. 

But Harry was determined to make it last.

And Louis eventually met him, thrust for thrust. 

Harry repositioned them half way, deciding the change of angle would maybe be not only less stimulating for him so he can slow down his rapidly approaching climax but provide a different angle of penetration for Louis. 

The latter was fine, Louis hissing at his reentrance before getting back into the flow again, a chorus of obscene moans a few thrusts in. The first however, Harry couldn’t have been more wrong about. It was just as bad. Now he had to stare at the delectable curve of Louis’ dipped spine, the subtle _bounce_ of his ass cheeks, round and firm. Plus when Louis pushed back like that, really getting into it all of a sudden, innocent little sounds carrying his name every so often made the whole thing impossible.

“H-Harry…” Louis grappled the sheets at his sides again, overwhelmed by how full he felt.

Soon enough Harry’s hips got a little erratic. He’d maintained his composure astoundingly well for someone who hadn’t had this release for several weeks now but now he felt the wave build in his naval, his dick twitching just as Louis’ hole started tightening sporadically and with an unkind grip on Louis behind, his orgasm knocked the air from his lungs. It crashed over on his body with more intensity than he’d bargained for and couldn’t stop his sudden surge, sending his spasming cock pummelling into that sweet spot of Louis’ a little harder than the boy could handle, over and over.

Louis didn’t get chance to protest as the sudden extra force brought his imminent climax to the edge and he too, bit down on the pillow again, feeling his warm release on his stomach, riding out the orgasm on Harry’s still solid cock until it hurt.

 

They’d laid in silence for a minute, both working off their high. Drying sweat made their bodies a little sticky, but the heat only made their scents and pheromones radiate sharper for the other to drown in, providing a relaxing combination.

Harry laid on his back, Louis slightly to the side as they did nothing but breathe. 

He kept a light touch on Louis’ twitching fingers throughout their repose, so they were always connected. Not ever wanting to be apart again. 

It’d been a matter of twenty minutes, thirty perhaps but Louis hadn’t experienced contentment like this. After a quick clean up courtesy of Harry, they lay again like teenage love sick puppies, pillow talk light and PG. Silly short conversations about pointless things. Harry giggled, tired and happy at Louis’ inquisitive nature and Louis rolled his eyes at Harry’s poetic perspective on just about everything.

It was normal, for once. And it worked.

His head lay on the long curve of Harry’s chest, warm and safe. His ear pressed against the smooth skin, listening to the slowly steadying beat of his heart beneath. 

Simple and pure.

It was an unusually bitter evening for mid spring, the night sky outside was cold and low, with harsh winds and relentless rain fall. But inside, post love making stupor, beneath the fine quilt, it felt like they were amidst the heat of three summer months combined. 

“Harry?”

Fingers circling the soft wisps of hair on his head, slowed at his name. He hummed croakily.

“If you had one wish, just one and you knew it would come true,” He tipped his chin to meet the now tamed shade of green, “what would it be?”

If Louis were brave, he would’ve pushed. If it were another time, different circumstances, he would’ve questioned the hesitation on Harry’s face, eyes closing for a second longer than was comfortable, mouth twitching at the answer he already knew. Like he’d just been waiting for someone to ask.

Harry angled his head, his adams apple bobbing as he focused a watery gaze on the wonderful little being curled up below him.

“Freedom.”

 

*

 

“I know my rights and I want a phone call.”

"It is two in the morning Mr Styles, please, calm down." 

"I know my rights, and I want a phone call."

The officer was told under no uncertain circumstances were he to allow the Doctor to be granted this. Due to his calibre there was too much at stake and they couldn’t allow Des that one last bit of lenience. 

He hesitated, but replied after a sigh.

“The law has been amended in your case, sir.”

“I’m not a stranger to that,” Des spoke through the tiny metal window where he could see nothing more that the officer’s eyes staring back, “but if there’s one other thing I’m no stranger to it’s getting my way and you’d do well not to deny me.”

The officer was new. Held his post for just under four months and didn’t want to risk it. 

But he also knew one of Des’ now identified victims. He trained in the same department and when he got news of his death, of _how_ he died, he was sickened to the core. And here he was, stood before the man responsible for it.

The resentment he felt was plenty. But the fear he held was worse.

Des gets his call.

“Mike, it’s Des… yeah. I think we both know I’m not getting out of here,” He spoke into the receiver clearly, not caring for the horrified look from the officer, “I need you to do me one more favour before this explodes. If I’m going down, I don’t want my Son to live to tell the tale.”

 

*

 

Louis’ body jumps to life. That feeling you get when you’re finally drifting off to sleep but then you suddenly feel like you’re falling and you jolt back to full consciousness. 

Flickering his eyes open he finds it to still be pitch black and therefore it can’t be long after they’d fallen asleep. It was some time past three that they’d turned off the lights and the sun rises at around six so it was somewhere in-between. 

He yawned and stretched his toes as far as they went, feeling the other set of feet that were slightly tangled with his own. He closed his eyes and smiled, tracing sleepy fingers over the relaxed weight around his middle, until he came to the massive paw resting on the mattress at his stomach and laced them between the fingers there too. 

He was fiddling with the metal rings, just about to settle back down after his freak awakening, nuzzling backwards into the warm wall of the body behind him when he heard it. His eyes popped open this time, wide and alert. 

He stared at the dark abyss, vision having not adjusted at all yet. The clattering sounded again. It wasn’t loud, not enough to wake him anyway yet now he was just that, it was clear as day. 

“Harry…” He scrunched his nose at his worn voice, clearing it a little, “ _Harry wake up._ ” Nudging the sleeping mass behind him with a small shoulder. 

There was footsteps, definitely footsteps and now Louis was scared.

He turned over and shook him awake, he hooked a leg either side of Harry’s waist and sat his entire weight on top only adding the confusion Harry woke to.

“L-Louis?” Louis ignored how attractive the croak in his voice was. Harry dug the heel of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to clear his slumber.

“Harry I think there’s someone here,” He tried to keep his voice low, close but urgent enough to bring the man underneath him to full attention, “there’s footsteps, I can hear-”

Something moved. Something heavy sounded like it was pushed along the floor and that’s all Harry needed.

Without hesitation he lifted Louis off of him and settled him carefully back down on the mattress, pulling the sheets and duvet up to cover him.

“Stay put, no matter what happens don’t move.” 

Harry rapidly felt for something to cover his lower regions and then shot back up to the boy, the ache in his lower back more prominent that usual. Louis squirmed in Harry’s large hands, against his full lips as he touched a gentle kiss upon his own.

“Harry wait can’t we just call-”

“Baby hush, do as you’re told. It’s going to be alright.” 

They couldn’t see each other very well, neither set of eyes adapting to the night quick enough, but the faint outlines of what they could was enough and Louis sank bank into the sheets grudgingly. 

Harry tread quietly to the door, placed an ear to the solid wood to listen. All was dead silence.

He feared nothing for his own safety, but was driven by an instinctual pull to protect the person wrapped up behind him. He’d take a world’s worth of torture before he let anything happen to him.

Checking behind him to see if he’d moved, Harry caught a glimpse of the outline provided by the moonlight through the window of Louis exactly where he’d left him, so he opened the door.

Stepping barefoot into the tiny hallway, he squinted through to the lounge. 

He wasn’t one for games and at this ungodly hour with present company he wasn’t willing to mess around, so he flicked the light on to his left with two fingers.

Nothing. The ceiling lights came to life and lit up the lounge area to everything as normal.

He pressed forward, eyes striving to focus in their tired state and braced a hand on the corner of the wall, stopping there as he surveyed the open area. He stepped down into the sitting area and went to walk past the first pillar, careful to keep his senses open to any movement that wasn’t his own. 

Coming to the kitchenette area he was almost ready to chalk it down to being another room; perhaps the suite directly below theirs but then the light was switched off and it happened so quickly Harry couldn’t even react. The tiny sparks flashing in Harry’s vision from the change didn’t help.

A hand that challenged his own strength grappled his jaw from behind, fingers exuding an uncomfortable amount of force on the pressure points Harry has used so many times himself before, while another kicked at the back of his knees making him buckle immediately. 

This wasn’t a rookie and Harry was caught off guard. 

Harry clamped his own hand around the thick set wrist, but it was pointless as he faltered immediately at the intruders next move. A cold needle plunged into the thin skin at Harry’s neck, directly next to his pulse point. There was no care taken over the precision of the injection, didn’t care if it pierced his artery, just needed to get the toxin into the bloodstream.

Harry hissed at the size of the infliction, the pain took a worse effect when he wasn’t prepared for it. 

The intruder had let go and kicked his back before Harry could retaliate, making him fall onto all fours, blood seeping from the pin point incision on his neck as the unknown attacker scrambled across the room and straight back out the door.

It had taken eight seconds to execute. Eight seconds. Harry didn’t stand a chance against such a professional. The early hour had him weakened, the love affair he’d been preoccupied with had set his mind off beat. He stared at the light filtering through the open door from the corridor, growling at the distant echo of his Father’s words.

_The boy is making you weak Son, he’s getting in the way…_

Said boy came tumbling out of the bedroom door, half naked physique highlighted by the glow from the artificial light of outside.

“Harry? What was…” Louis couldn’t see him properly yet, just saw what he thought was Harry doubled over on the floor, now rising shakily up, “Are you alright?”

He looked at the door, squinting at the bright light as his hands felt around the wall for a switch. When he flicked the light he saw the blood streaming down Harry’s neck and his heart dropped.

“ _What_ ,” Louis ran over to Harry, hands lost for what to do, covering his own mouth then rising to cup Harry’s face, “Harry what is that, what-” The door was still open, he motioned towards it, looking back up to a bewildered looking Harry, “-who did this?”

On his tiptoes he could see on closer inspection what _this_ was. 

Harry already knew. 

“Louis,” Harry, for the second time now, was struck speechless. Half stunned at the first attack he’d come away worst from and half fear stricken from what it meant, “we need to go to the hospital, I don’t have long.”

Louis shook his head, “What are you talking about what’s happen-“

“-Mike, your fucking chauffeur for the past two months, that’s what’s happened.”

In the time it’d taken for things to register, he’d pieced it together. He knew Mike was the only one who possessed a skill set that rivalled his own, that’s why Des chose him to be the one to take Louis to and from the manor each and every time. He was ex military and Harry would know that head lock anywhere. 

“Someone here has betrayed us,” Harry pressed a hand against his neck, stopping the blood, “I don’t know who but someone has tabs on us and I’m guessing my Father has instructed Mike to carry out this one last fuck you once he found out my location.”

Louis followed him, watched as Harry went about dressing himself. He suddenly felt totally useless.

“But Harry-”

“We have to move fast.”

“But-”

“ _Louis!_ ” His voice rang so harsh. He didn’t mean it. 

“O-okay, I’m sorry where’s your,” Louis scurried past him, picking up his abandoned t-shirt and pulling it over his head so quickly he didn’t realise it was inside out, “keys? They’re in your coat aren’t they?”

The drug’s tranquillising effect was taking it’s ruthless toll already and Harry’s head whirled.

“Actually, I don’t think there’s time…” Harry gripped one of the posts of the bed to balance himself, “you need to call an ambulance right away.”

Louis was perched on the edge of the bed pulling on his converse, when he turned around about to ask what he meant but the drained appearance of Harry’s face didn’t let him get much further than opening his mouth. 

Harry’s mind and body were fighting against the sedative, he’d made it through so many doses, so many different drugs that he knew what it felt like to take a heavy load but this wasn’t anything like he’s experienced before; this was lethal. His hand, usually so _strong_ , so resilient, loosened it’s grip just as Louis appeared at his side and he fell to the ground.


	22. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any inaccuracies in the court procedures if any of you are overly familiar with that sort of thing, I did what I could. Also I apologise for any major spelling errors etc; I lost this chapter and had to re write it in a matter of two hours. I'll try post the last two tomorrow at the same time (if not Saturday) and then log off for a year.

The lawyer for the prosecution, wasn’t one to be contended. Well known and respected throughout his trade. Not local, but he was a household name throughout the Criminal Law world. Liam Payne, 31 years old, had never lost a case since he first started practise seven years ago. Ten years of experience in the same law firm, under the training and guidance of an equally notorious Lawyer had him saddled up and ready for anything thrown his way. 

He was from Birmingham, much further down south than the tiny town of Ritsborough but had moved to the City outside a couple of years back to do work as a transfer. Amongst that work, was Harry’s original case. He’d never got the position as his official attorney but worked alongside, his expertise in first degree murder cases being precedented. 

Inside the courtroom was daunting enough. It was a high court case and with it’s supreme reputation and being classed as an appeal the public was allowed to attend. The rows of seating were full, the rest of the people who had hoped to attend waited outside the building. The original case was something that had rattled the town and people even from surrounding areas had travelled to see the outcome. 

Moving down the aisle and towards the bench, the raised platform were the Judge would soon be present stood, mahogany and tall and proud. The media was there already, reporters with their recording devices, pens and pads ready to take note of proceedings. The defence and _Des_ were to the left, with two armed policeman to keep order. To his right was where Harry should be stood alongside Liam. Louis gulped, that dysphoria he'd recently befriended pulling at his chest again. 

Ivan, Niall, Annabelle, another witness that had come forward called Sophia and himself all sat directly behind on the wooden area, waiting to be called to testify.

After the Judge had arrived fifteen minutes later, in Harry’s absence, Ivan was called to the witness box first.

It went smoothly. This was a man who knew the workings of the law like the back of his hand and could almost predict what questions would be proposed. 

Louis couldn’t stop fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, the suit he wore - which cost more than he’d care to admit - feeling very restrictive all of a sudden. He kept swallowing, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth, across his teeth, trying to get moisture. 

Then his name was called. 

Upon giving his testimony he found he couldn’t bring himself to look Des in the face. All he could think about, was Harry.

Never been one to shy away from opposition, always volatile when it comes to standing against what’s wrong he felt ashamed at his inability to raise his eyes to the man responsible for this. But there was something about the man’s stare, something in the way as Louis reeled off the information, relaying what happened word for word, he didn’t look away that made Louis unable to return the act. Felt like if he did look up, what he’d be met with would burn into his retinas; there every time he closed his eyes. It was almost as if he were setting him a challenge. One last demur.

The only eyes he found sanctuary in were Liam’s, the other witnesses and his Mother who was sat with Zayn, Craig and his sister’s in the public seating. 

Cross examination from the defendant was the worst part. He tore down his defences one by one, chipped away at his story and picked at the things Louis had previously recalled apart, laying them out before the Jury and muddling them, twisting them until Louis even started to doubt himself.

Louis didn’t know much about law and the happenings of court rooms but he knew a solid case when he saw one and that was exactly what he thought he had against Des. The defendant Attorney though, James Turner, shattered that belief with his first question.

“I’d like to bring your attention to the letter, in which you say you found in the Styles residence on the day of your alleged attack, but only came to light a month afterwards.” He was short, quite podgy and definitely a lot older than Liam and his experience shone through with the viciousness of his attack, “Tell me Louis, why would you keep, such -as you would call it - solidified evidence to yourself for all this time? Why would you not present this to the authorities immediately, being a legal document, thus granting your own act of perjury, obtaining such _vital_ information from an existing case?”

Louis forgot how to speak. All legal jargon spoken so eloquently to make him slip up, confuse him. He was under oath, stood before these intimidating people, with over thirty sets of eyes all trained on him and he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

The case ensued, it pushed on for another hour. Annabelle was called to testify very briefly after Louis, then Judge Ivan was brought back and after a short break his wife.

The court had been made aware of the reasons’ behind Harry’s non attendance - as had the media. Partly the reason behind the mini riot outside. It had become public knowledge that his most recent inducement was by a deadly drug and how he had been hospitalised immediately. So they had to allow for the lack of a prosecution. 

And of course, Des pleaded not guilty to all of it.

Pamela, the Judges’ wife was handed a box of tissues half way through her reasoning to she agreed to her husband’s decision when there was an almighty crash outside the double oak doors, the ones that allowed entrance to the courtroom and she froze. As did the attendance handing her them. A couple of shouts echoed, high and extremely loud as the jury came to a standing ovation when the doors suddenly flew open. 

The entire room burst to life then, people standing to crane their necks at the intrusion, not believing the hushed whispers being passed along the rows, all leaning and nearly clambering over one another to see the commotion.

“ _Order, order!_ ” The Judge lifted himself to a standing position, hands braced either side atop the bench after sounding his gavel. His voice boomed over the crowds seeming too powerful to belong to a human, “What is going on?”

Suited head to toe in black - formality clearly never held another colour in his eyes - boots clicking loudly, making fast process towards the gates that separated the bench from the seating, was non other than Harry Styles. 

Louis, Niall and Annabelle stood to attention immediately and said his name in unison the minute he came into view. 

He was accompanied by several members of security all caught between wanting to restrain him as this is what their title entail them to do, but with the given situation, wanting to allow him entrance to the mercy of the Judge. 

Harry stopped at the barrier and bowed his head by a fraction.

“Judge please forgive my encroachment.”

Louis was certain his heart was visible through his suit. Ramming against his ribcage. 

Harry was there. Standing. Healthy and conscious and- _glowing_. He’d been in hospital for three days. Three whole days, flitting in and out of consciousness and Louis had left him last night in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV line, unconscious after being told visiting hours were long since over and being dragged away by Niall at 10PM to get some rest for today.

He didn’t sleep. 

But now here he is fourteen hours later, probably not fully recovered, but well enough seemingly overnight as the anecdote had worked wonders and strutted in over an hour late into the first trial of the biggest battle of his life. The pride Louis felt, the utter and repleted _love_ he felt made that beating heart of his swell ten times over and he couldn’t help a smile. Harry side eyed him, winking with a dimple poised on his cheek. 

As good as he looked, Louis knew there was no way he would’ve been authorised to leave that hospital so quickly. But he’d done it anyway and Louis giggled, quiet and humbled. Harry was absolutely ridiculous. And maybe just as stubborn as himself. 

“-Judge, you and I know the correct procedure of the court to disallow sentencing until the prosecution is present?” Liam wasted not a second, spinning around a plea in his voice, clutching at the new situation that had been shoved upon them. 

The Judge knew exactly where he was going with this. And it was after all down to his rule to whether they proceed with the hearing as an appeal, what with Harry’s lack of attendance for half of it or go forth as a trial in which would result in a sentencing. 

“Your honour please, if I may, Mr Styles would have been my first witness of calling if he had not been laid up in a hospital bed due to what I can prove is his Father’s doing,” Liam held out his hand to the boy who was now being lightly restrained by security at the Judge’s request, glaring at his Father behind the defence stand, “I implore you to see reason, with light of his absence, look beyond the current conditions and achieve what we are all inevitably here to do.” 

No decision could be made without the prosecution there and as Harry was now here, the Judge had to make a decision. Allow Harry to stay, to testify. Or carry on as scheduled with another trial in one week’s time.

After a couple of back and forth between the defendant Attorney and the judge, pleading to allow the pre arranged week’s period of custody, he digressed and amended the proceedings. 

The day would end in a charge. 

Louis sat down then. He’d been stood this entire time. Niall squeezed his shoulder.

Another break was solicited immediately and the court was adjourned for a half hour. This, in which Harry was taken off to a room to be briefed by Liam and when returned, they sat directly beside one another as what should’ve been since the beginning.

Pamela finished her testimony and Harry was brought to stand. 

Unlike Louis, Harry held no anticipation in holding his ice cold stare. Wasn’t put off by his affliction, more motivated by it. Illustrious green eyes challenged his Father’s empty blue ones throughout until the elder was the one who backed down in the end. As Harry’s words fell out, one by one, as he revealed what had really happened two years ago and what’s been happening ever since it all tied together and Des knew his fate had been sealed, he looked away, not able to maintain his front any more.

Later that evening the media would report how it had shaped up to be one of the longest hearings in British history. If not also, one of the most _dramatic_ , controversial and emotionally crippling. 

They would also later report, word for word, the Judge’s closing sentence:

“I hereby charge you, Doctor Desmond Anthony-Edward Styles guilty with the crime of murder, multiple murders of first degree and you are sentenced by the order of this Court as follows: You are punished by imprisonment, committing to the Belmarsh’s High Security Prison for the term of your natural life without the possibility of patrol. Under section 2259-8, you have been charged and found guilty of…”

Des was long gone. Face drained, fists balled behind his back in their arrest. He was made to look at the Judge throughout his string of offences as they were read out one by one. 

Harry sat tall, proud and didn’t look away from him as this happened. Louis’ hand holding onto his the entire time. 

“At this point sir, you stand committed to the crimes you have been convicted, and you are in the custody of the court officers depending your execution of your sentence at the Belmarsh Prison.”

 

*

 

It was a week and four days after Des’s conviction that Harry admitted he needed help. 

For over two and a half years his body had been under the ruthless control of drugs. Mind muddled, swayed to meet his Father’s violent demands and body hardened from doing so.

His doses were refreshed consistently throughout and from having such a constant supply, naturally, his body grew dependant. 

It all became obvious from the behaviour Harry started to emitt after being ‘clean’ for a month. The real symptoms started a week in, three days after he’d woken up from the hospital, three days after the beginning of the rest of his life, but it was chalked down to stress; the normal response to the hostile and emotionally dragging situation he had called home for the past four years.

But it wasn’t. The mood swings, the night sweats, the random shaking throughout the day, got worse with time. His body had somehow managed to keep the worst of it at bay during the peak of the court case, during all the media outbursts, the questionings, everything. Almost as if it had gone into shock control and was preserving all the energy it needed to cope with what’s at hand. Then, once it had all died down, his body had just stopped working altogether, and his entire system came crashing. Malfunctioning emotionally and physically. 

The various medical professionals had urged him to consider rehab, but for so long he’d refused it. Swore he didn’t need it. He wasn’t a washed up druggie that had to recover. He was perfectly fine and he would ride out whatever remaining effects of post-substance abuse his body had left to dish out.

But on the Thursday night, the night that marked eleven days since his Father had been found guilty, he did something that made him realise enough was enough. 

Louis hadn’t even raised his voice, hadn’t given him any cheek, wasn’t even really disagreeing with him, just gently suggesting an alternative method of dealing with his stress. 

“Harry, all I’m saying is that maybe, alongside the medication you might find something physical beneficial.”

“So you _do_ think I have a problem?”

“I don’t think you have a problem, you’re just dealing with a lot right now and-”

Harry slammed his fists onto he counter, making Louis jump and place a hand on his chest.

“You sound just like them.”

His skin felt so hot, the sweat on his forehead indicating this but inside he was cold. Even as he braced himself on the kitchen counter he shivered a little.

Louis saw it, he knew he needed help. But didn’t know how to broach it. Trying to skirt gently around it until rehabilitation was the only option left was his tactic but right now he regretted trying at all.

“I - I just want you to get better, you’re not well, Harry.”

Harry swung around the counter faster than he thought he could and snatched both of Louis’ arms, squeezing them to his side and walked him straight back into the wall. 

“Listen to me,” His eyes had taken the dark turn Louis had hoped to never have to see again, “you don’t know the first thing what you’re talking about.”

“Harry you’re hurting-”

“ _Shut the fuck up_ ,” He leant more weight into his hold and Louis bit back a whine, something bubbling in his chest, “I’m feeling exactly the way someone should feel after being what Ive been through, I’m _acting_ exactly the way someone should act after being what I’ve been through.”

Louis couldn’t hold back, the grip on his arms too strong. He hissed, “- _ah_ , Harry please get off me, _shit_ Harry get off of me now!”

Harry stormed out shortly after, the bang of the door resonating through the kitchen and Louis fell to the floor crying. 

Once he got back three and a half hours later it was to meet Zayn and Louis waiting for him.

He saw the bruises on Louis’ biceps before Louis had the chance to hide them, not pulling his hoodie on quick enough. 

Harry cried into the early hours with Louis right by his side. It was four in the morning and the kettle clicked in the background, steam shooting up through the spout and Harry scribbled down the number to the rehabilitation centre that Louis read from his laptop screen.

 

*

 

It’s been four months since that night and five weeks since he’s been out. 

Harry had defeated two things in his life so far. His Father and the drugs. 

But over the past three or so weeks, something much more unpredictable had emerged that had been loitering in the back of his mind and everyone else’s. Louis had spoken about it to Niall and Zayn several times by now, voicing his concerns over what he would bet his life’s earnings on was going to happen once he got out of rehab and tried to shape himself back into societal norms. 

Louis had documented everything as and when it happened. First, it was just mentally; he’d make a note of how Harry would be quiet for hours on end or how he’d take too long to reply to his messages. How he’d look like he was lost in a world that was his own for a few long minutes, distant and unaware. 

Then it got more serious and the nightmares started. Harry went downhill so quickly Louis stood no chance of coming to his aid. He needed professional help. 

But Harry was doing everything right, on paper, he was moving on.

With his inheritance he didn't exactly need a job. And from the businesses and estate he was now sole owner of, he was never going to need money again. Yet that didn't stop him from doing volunteer work. To keep his mind busy. There weren't many places that were willing to let him do so, but there was one charity that lay close to his heart and the lady who ran the local sector, was touched by his story.

Another venture to keep his mind active was Academia. He had the intellectual ability to get himself enrolled in a course for the following summer - English Literature. Books had been his salvation before Louis came along and would continue to be there for the short periods Louis is not. He hopes to teach one day and Louis thinks it suits him quite well. 

“Professor Styles…” He mused out loud, sat crossed legged on Harry’s four poster bed, “It has a sexy ring to it don’t you think?”

“ _Sexy?_ ”

Louis un tangled his legs, walked his knees to the edge of the mattress to where Harry was stood facing, fiddling with the knot of his tie. Today he was going for an interview at the University and was debating on a dark grey or his usual black tie.

“Yeah,” Louis slapped away the large clumsy hands and took over, threading the material over and through, heading tilting with each motion, “Sexy Professor Styles. Sexy Styles. Sir Styles.” 

Harry cocked an eyebrow and found a new vocation for his now jobless hands.

“Maybe my future students will show me a little more respect,” He spread two warm and wide palms along the side of Louis’ slightly spread thighs, coming to a halt at the satisfying handful he got from the generous mounds of his bottom, “than you.” He squeezed.

Times like these, Harry was fine. 

But they became few and far between. His emotional distancing got worse after the nightmares intensified. Nights on end Louis insisted on staying with Harry and nights on end he was up at three or four in the morning due to Harry soaking the bed from sweat. Harry waking himself up feeling like he was going to cough up his heart from images of people he didn't recognise begging him to stop, don't hurt me, _please don't do this-_

Some nights he didn’t even manage to sleep. Louis neither. Which had a prolific effect on his work life, his boss not as forgiving has he was a couple of months ago. He was grateful he’d taken a years’ deferral on his studies or else he would’ve undoubtedly failed. 

As the nightmares continued so did Harry’s depletion.

Harry had always been an avid runner, even before he’d met Louis. He’d ran to take up time, to keep fit and enjoyed the light feeling it gave him shortly afterwards. But even that, became fruitless.

He didn’t enjoy doing things anymore. Reading, washing his cars, scrabble. Hobbies that took up idle time between them he just didn't find the same enthusiasm for. Sex, soon took the same fate. 

Upon going to the manor one Saturday afternoon, the autumn winds outside causing the dead leaves under his feet to rustle and whirl around him as he took the driveway, he caught sight of Harry curled up in one of the top left windows. The same window he’d seen the drape being pulled back that night last winter when Louis had the intelligent idea to landscape his gates and fracture his rib. Something he now, could never come to regret. 

Once inside, he found him to just be sat there on the deep window ledge, knees bent, oatmeal sweater rolled halfway up his forearms. Hadn’t even turned to acknowledge Louis in the doorway. 

“Harry I know the idea of having a telephone is quite new to you but the concept of how to use it is quite straight forward,” He swiped his fringe, shuddering as the indoor heating finally began settling into his bones, “I’ve called you seven times.”

It was later that evening, Louis drove Harry to the emergency clinic. His own therapist on speaker in the car, the tears that were lining his eyes evident in his voice.

“-no he just started throwing up, one minute he was fine- well, not _fine_ but you know what I mean and the next he couldn’t breath I-… yeah he’s literally white… no I’m bringing him to the clinic now it can't wait… okay, okay,” Louis strained to keep his eyes on the road, but he was far too concerned with the unresponsive man slumped in the seat next to him.

PTSD. That, combined with depression. Although, as the doctor explains to them so many times they couldn’t forget it even if they wanted to, was already a major side effect of PTSD; kind of comes hand in hand. That and insomnia. 

The therapist, the lady who Louis had been seeing this entire time, couldn’t have put it better. 

“Oddly enough, Harry’s head is clearer than ever, but that means his memories are too. He may not be clear from emotional trauma but he’s in the land of the living now and the reality of his past crimes, the memories of the things that he has done have started to eat away at him.” 

 

*

 

_-Two months later-_

Harry had surprised him with dinner.

And for the first time, it wasn't home made.

Tomorrow would mark the day they met. Well, officially anyway.

He'd took it upon himself to book them a table at a five star establishment in the City. Louis felt stupidly out of place amongst the pretty people with Chanel purses and Rolex watches and pea sized portions of what they called _Entrées_. 

The medication had been helping, but he wasn’t the same. Louis didn't expect him to be, he was just relieved something was changing. 

He’d been out in public three times in the last week and had been met with nothing but hostility; people shouting across roads to tell him how they wish he’d gone down too. How they couldn’t understand how Harry could live with himself. And right now, as they sat at the table across from one another, a couple were all spiteful whispers next to them. Making a point of looking at Harry with ugly taste. 

“Harry,” Louis’ hand ran across the table, snaked through the long, adept fingers turning white with their hold on the napkin, pulling them loose, “Harry don’t listen to them.” 

He wanted so badly to plant a soft kiss, as always, on his tip toes, _as always_ , to the underside of that strong jaw.

Harry peeled his eyes away from the strangers, pushing a smile onto his face for Louis. Always for Louis.

“I won’t.” He secured the grip Louis initiated, bringing the dainty hand up to his plump lips as he leant forward.

Louis shook his head, voice soft, “They don’t understand.” 

He ran a thumb over the papery thin skin, looking at the eyes before him, begging him not to listen. 

“I know they don't.”

And eventually, Harry realised he didn’t need them to.


	23. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I presume everyone else saw the death warning when it was posted? If not and you're annoyed, I'm really sorry. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this ending serves as a good enough one for all of you. It's my first story and it's been _emotional_. It could've most definitely been written far better than what I've managed to do with it I'm sure, but I'm happy with how it's turned out. I'm going to miss writing it and its characters; I hold this Harry very close to my heart. Thank you so, so, so much to all my readers, all your comments have made me laugh and given me the encouragement to keep going so really, thank you. Until next time.

_-Present day-_

 

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to integrate yourself back into reality Haz.”

Harry leant against the doorway, black boots scraping along the wood as he crossed his ankles. It was still weird for everyone to see him like this, relaxed and open in their company, even after all this time. 

“I know.” Harry looked at him, then at the cup he held, “I just don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Niall gulped down the remains of his tea, pulling a face that was maybe a little over the top to convey his disagreement.

“Our faces have literally been plastered over the news as much as yours, we are you you are us,” Niall looked to the side, something registering suddenly, “... _we are one_.”

Louis groaned from the couch.

“No, no please don’t break into Lion King”

Harry’s smirk grew at that and giggled softly when he saw Niall’s pure offence, like a dream of his had been crushed.

“I think what Niall is trying to say,” Louis rose then, swiping his hands down his thighs as he straightened up, “is we’re in this together. And we really couldn’t care what people have to say about any of it.”

That voice could bring foreign fear to a standstill. Harry’s pensive expression a thing of the past, all the doubt and worry he held over any of it was extinguished when two hands were on his arms, unwinding them and running up his chest, neck and came to a soft halt as a cradle to his jaw.

“It’ll be fine. We’ve been through too much for any of it to matter.”

Harry leant forward, a kiss to his temple. 

“You’re so strong, sometimes I forget which one of is more broken.” His low voice rumbled in Louis’ ear as he cradled him close in return, forgetting they weren’t the only ones in the room and giggled deep and muffled in Louis’ delicate neck, “We’re so fucked up.”

Louis squirmed from the tickle, laughing so hard he hung his head back only for that to be attacked with an army of kisses immediately.

“Maybe, but I like to think of us as less of a _fucked up_ mess and more an organised chaos.”

 

*

 

“So,” Craig tipped his chin between the pair, “how’d you two meet?” 

Even Harry had to hold back from spitting his drink out. Something that Zayn and Niall, it appears were incapable of doing. 

To maintain the composure of his dead pan, Craig just looked around them all like they were idiots.

“Don’t know what’s so funny but okay.” 

The ice was broken and the alcohol was flowing. It wasn’t the first time Harry had tried going out for a few sociables, but it was the first without getting abuse hurled at him from people he didn’t know so he marks that down to a massive positive. 

It was cosy bar, local and had a live band playing in an hour so the crowd was buzzed. 

“Oi Harry you’ve seen the face right?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “I swear I don’t have the face.”

Harry pulled away from the conversation he was having with Niall about how he likes to collect beer mats from all the places he visits - he’s on 17 currently - and raises his chin at Zayn, having not heard him properly. 

“Sorry?”

“Does Louis have a face when he doesn’t like someone or not?”

Harry grinned, keeping his head pointed towards Zayn but side eyed Louis for a second who was tapping the top of his beer bottle with a pout; an _I dare you_ face that only made Harry chuckle and nod his head immediately. 

“Absolutely.”

“ _Traitor._ ”

Zayn pointed held his glass up in toast to this, “I rest my case.”

“Louis you wear your emotions of your face and as much as you like to think you’re not, you’re a despicable liar,” Harry winked at him, bringing his own glass up to lips that were stretched in the most wretched fucking imperious smile.

There was a chorus of fluctuating laughter around the table, while Louis just clucked his tongue, feeling betrayed. 

“I hate you.” He brought the beer bottle to his mouth and threw his head back, emptying the remains and slamming it back down. “I hate you all.”

“I actually have-” Harry swallowed, placed the glass back and briefly pat his front pockets down. He frowned when he did the same to the back and couldn’t feel what he was looking for, “I have a picture of the face on my phone but, I can’t find it.”

“You’ve left it in the car again haven’t you?”

Harry smiled dropping his hands to rest on his thighs.

“I think you’re right.”

“Always am.”

A glint of something was in Harry’s eyes as he hummed, leant over and nipped at his jaw, “Not always.”

Louis blushed at the hand that had snaked it’s way up the inside of his thigh and tightened, fingers splayed. 

“I’ll be right back.” Harry finished the brief assault on the tender area behind Louis’ ear before getting up and nodding to Niall. Niall, who had watched the entire thing with a distasteful grimace.

“What?”

“You two are disgusting, so whipped, so fucking in love it makes me- actually ’scuse me? Yeah, can I borrow that?” Niall went to the effort of leaning forward and getting the attention of the table next to them, referring to the now empty ice bucket they had, “I’ve just come over really nauseous and-”

Louis’ eyes bulged and batted away the hand that was making gestures at the strangers, “Niall oh my god, I’m sorry he’s being an idiot, too much warm milk, sends him woozy.”

Louis was a fit of giggles and Niall’s constant disapproving looks between sips, holding his stomach from the ache of laughing too much. He was a picture of ecstasy. He felt warm all of a sudden. Accepted and content in every corner of his life and he knew nothing would destroy it, a feeling of overwhelming happiness washing over him at the sight of his friends before him.

It was the small things, small moments like these that add up and just make the whole thing worth it. 

The only thing missing was Harry, who had now made his way outside and was trudging his way across the too large parking lot to his lump of a Range Rover. It was December 1st, mid winter and so 8PM meant it was dark outside. Pitch black. And absolutely freezing. But the carpark was more than suitably lit with several lamp posts and even with the bleak lighting his car was quite a contrast to the rest of the vehicles that occupied the spaces around it, the size and undeniable _blackness_ made it not so difficult to spot. 

Unlocking the monstrous vehicle with a beep he swung the front door open and with a single foot on the step, heaved himself up and forward to reach into the compartment he always kept his phone in. Except this time it wasn’t there. 

It had been over a year without a phone and out of everything, it was the thing he’d missed the least. Grunting to himself about the _actual_ necessity of having such a device he started about pulling the front half of his car apart; emptying the glove box, pulling the seats backwards and feeling around underneath them when he heard a voice he didn’t recognise sound from way too close outside.

He cursed under his breath and pulled his head back up to see who it was.

“Harry Styles…thought it was you.”

Nope. Harry didn’t know him. He studied the stranger who was staggering a little as he closed in on his vehicle, placing a hand to steady himself on the hood.

Harry’s eyes narrowed onto the appendage. 

“Can I help you sir?”

He pulled himself back and hopped back onto the ground, walking around the door and to the front of his vehicle hoping his pointed looks at the intrusive hand on his hood would make him _get the fuck off._

The man scoffed.

He looked to be a thirty something. Dressed in some mismatched suit, beige jacket and an uglier shade on his pants complete with a dark red tie that looked like it’d been worn in a perfectly done windsor all day but recently pulled down and strewn to the side, top button popped. He briefly took in the badge clipped to his belt - some kind of authority.

To Harry’s delight he pushed up from his anchor on the hood and walked - or wobbled - closer to him.

“ _You_ , have done enough for me already. You can’t fuckin’ help me, can’t even fucking help myself.” And he was drunk. Great. Harry was alone and frustrated and each minute spent away from Louis felt like a minute knocked off his life span, he really wasn’t in the mood for some inebriated idiot to start talking nonsensical jargon.

“Alright sir,” Harry sighed, looping his finger through his keyring, “let’s get you inside, water is the only thing that will save you now.”

The man’s bloodshot eyes are wider, angrier at Harry’s attempted approach. He threw his hands out and shook his head,

“Woah woah no _no_ you stay right there, s’mine time to talk now.”

Harry’s jaw set how it always does when his patience was being trampled on. Patience was always going to be a thinly worn issue for him, no matter how much therapy he had it’s something he and everyone else around him was going to have to accept. It just doesn’t exist in his world.

“Okay.” Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to try though, “I’m all ears.”

He decided to humour the guy.

“You’re a fucking _bastard_ , pure fucking _scum_ ,” The man hiccuped, sounded like it was going to be closely followed by vomit, “allowed to walk free- freely while the rest of us, we all have to suffer.”

His heart dropped. Harry now found he had a lot more time for the man.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“M’names none of your fuckin’ business, m-might recognise my sister’s though? Angela Parkinson?” The man sniffed, then again and all of a sudden he was crying. Just like that as if the name was a trigger.

The name did ring familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He tried, he desperately tried to reach for a recognition seeing the state this guy was in but he just couldn’t.

“It’s familiar, but I’m sorry I don’t remember her particularly-”

“-how bout I jog yer’ memory then shouldn’t take much,” He stepped closer, so close that Harry could smell the foul stench of fermented alcohol on his breath, “Tomorrow marks the two year anniversary of her death - cause of death?” Everything about the man was trembling, unsteady and blurred including his speech but that finger was firm as he continued, “ _You. You_ , strangled her to death, squeezed the last breath out of her… no other signs of struggle they said, no other m-marks on her body- a seemingly random fatal attack of cruelty.”

Harry’s heart felt heavier in his chest. He could hear his phone ringing from somewhere behind him but couldn’t take his eyes off the wreck before him.

“I’m so sorry.” 

It was a ridiculous response. But what else was there?

“For what? For killing her or for the _pain_ that we’ve had to endure since.”

“Everything, I’m sorry for everything.” Harry stood there, vulnerable and wide open. Sharing his pain in equal measures as if it were his own, feeling like he deserved it.

The man wiped away a couple of tears furiously, face reddened from the combination of alcohol and exertion.

“It ain’t,” Shook his head, “it ain’t fair.”

“Nothing about this is I know, nothing is justified. I don’t think it ever will-”

“-tell me why, I just-I want to know _why_ you did it.”

“I can’t… remember I’m so sorry.”

“ _Bullshit_.”

“No. I want to tell you everything you want to know, I wish I could give you all the answers you so desperately want and deserve to have but I can’t. I am of no use to you, I cannot make right any of this and believe me it’s my wish to turn back time and change everything, everything that I did - I would give up my life for the ability to do so but I can’t,” Harry felt on the edge of a breakdown himself, “I just can’t and for that, for _everything_ I am so very, utterly and irrevocably sorry.”

Harry took a deep breath. As shaky as the hand raking through his hair.

“I’ve seen the news, your Father’s a cunt.” He sniffed, eyes looking at Harry but not really seeing him, suddenly glazed, “but I can’t get to him can I? I need someone to blame Styles, I need someone to blame for not having my baby sister around anymore.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling he had no excusable right to be crying.

“I have known loss myself sir, I know what it’s like to experience that feeling.” He ran a hand through his hair again and looked away for a beat, trying to pull himself into maintaining some sort of composure, “and to hate the person responsible. And by that I know what it’s like to hate me, I hate myself so you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I can never forgive myself for any of what I’ve done and I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. But I’m learning to live with it, the guilt, the pain day by day and that, for now, is enough. Has to be.”

The guy seemed to really listen for a moment, letting Harry’s heavy words of candour fall on his impaired ears. The alcoholic fluid in his system smeared his senses though. He was listening closely enough, even when a small voice in the back of his head so distant telling him to maybe accept what he’s hearing and leave.

But he didn’t. Too driven by hate to see past any of it.

“Maybe for you it is,” the guy seemed to waver slightly on the spot, reaching a hand behind himself, “but for me it isn’t.”

Harry frowned, air feeling thick. He went to say something when he noticed the light filter through the darkness from the other side of the carpark, a pair of bodies coming out of it. Louis was one of them.

“My name is Ryan Parkinson and I’ve waited a- a long time for this. I too, am very sorry.” 

Harry was too busy looking at Louis and who he presumed was Zayn to see it. He didn’t want him to have to hear this, he was dealing with it. Why was he out here and why is he now running-

When he looked backed to the stranger he was staring down the barrel of a hand gun. 9mm, Browning. Instantly recognised it from his Father’s collection.

“Wait-”

A shot fired and the sound was something Harry would never hear again. Something Louis would never forget.

Harry staggered back, arm leveraging on the wing mirror, the power of the hit nearly knocking him clean off his feet. Air became deficient but the blood that haemorrhaged through his t-shirt wasn’t. Placing a hand on the wound, he felt the dampness and looked up, heard his name on that dear voice, the only one that mattered, ringing through the air for the last time.

Then another gunshot and the heat burned like it never had before, up his throat, down his torso as his world blacked out.


	24. 24

“He’s there,” Zayn pointed across the lot, spying Harry stood in front of the man they’d just been told about, “that must be the guy he’s talking to, yeah look at the- _oh shit Lou he’s got a gun-_ ”

Louis saw it. But why hasn’t Harry? Why wasn’t Harry doing anything? Why is he just stood there not doing anyth-

A shot fired and Louis screamed. 

“ _Harry!_ ” Louis sprinted across the tarmac, loose grit kicking up at the back, “ _Stop please-_ ”

Another shot.

He saw Harry’s limp body collide with the ground on a deafening crack.

Louis' body met the gunman’s with just as much gusto a second later, knocking him flat over on impact, the gun flying forward out his grasp. 

Zayn was there in a flash at Harry’s side. 

Louis couldn’t see their faces. Harry wasn’t moving and Zayn wasn’t facing him and he _needed_ to see him.

“Ha- Harry…” Climbing off the lump of a body beneath him he scrambled over to them, not even feeling the bloody scrapes on his own elbows, “Harry.”

When he saw it, the shock stopped him instantly. 

Blood. Too much of it to leave the person who it belonged to functioning. It had drenched through the shirt he wore, rendering the pattern on it obsolete, stained into his palms, leaking into the grooves of the rings and had now soiled Zayn’s hands. 

Louis held onto his ankles, fingers scrambling for a hold maybe a little too tightly just to make sure this was real. 

“No…” He walked his hands up his legs, long, powerful legs that now fell limp on the rough tarmac, “no, Harry.” 

He carried himself further up the lengthy body, hands shaking as he skirted his eyes over the crimson he was now facing and could see the clear bullet wound on his right pectoral open and raw.

Zayn’s fingers had left. Somewhere behind them, stood up and pacing. Louis could hear his voice, muffled and urgent, talking to someone about an ambulance, giving an address. 

Louis was at his head now, stained fingers coming up to try and hold his jaw. A useless attempt with fingers as unsteady as his. He saw his tears fall onto Harry’s pale cheek, couldn’t feel them but watched as they ran down and over the high rise of the bone. 

“No, you don’t get to do this to me Harry Styles you don’t get to die on me,” Louis pressed his hands into the “not like this, you are not leaving me like this.”

Harry’s body reacted to his words, as if he could hear him and was trying to communicate but couldn’t. As if he knew what was coming and was trying to tell him. Louis immediately clutched at the twitching fingers, lacing his fingers between Harry’s and rocking forward a little, muttering nonsense into the bloodied palms as he brought them up to his trembling lips. 

Harry’s head fell to the floor, eyes still barely open and glazed as his chest heaved, blood erupting from his slack mouth.

Hands were at Louis’s shoulders then, pulling him back.

But Louis wasn’t going to leave him. A sob shook his chest, tears making it impossible to see, pulling himself closer to Harry.

“Please I’m a nurse, please, let me help-,” 

The hands were still there on his shoulders - Niall, as a woman he didn’t recognise came to her knees at the side of a spluttering Harry. 

“Do something…” Louis’ voice was small at first, but when the shock subsided he couldn’t reign it in, “ _do something, please just fucking help him!_ ” 

Louis was held back by Niall, Zayn had hung up a while ago saying there was an ambulance that was five minutes away in the area and after the woman was done ripping the material of her jacket up to apply to the wounds, a siren sounded close by. 

A small crowd had gathered around them but everything was blurred. Nothing was coming into focus and it should scare Louis, how his eyesight had taken tunnel vision, how his skin was numb to anything that touched it, how his ears was smudging all sounds into one big incoherent buzz but it just didn’t. 

The lady’s bare arms were covered in blood and Harry had stopped convulsing. 

She had avoided eye contact with Louis throughout.

Everyone knew.

The ambulance was there in a matter of minutes and the paramedics were surrounding Harry’s pliant body. 

“ _Please, please, please, please_ ,” Louis shook his head, breath hiccuping. He couldn’t look away.

The male paramedic sat back on his haunches and looked up at the female, wiping the back of his gloved hand on his forehead. She had her back facing Louis and the rest, her expression un readable. But the small shake of his head to her meant it didn’t need to be.

The hold on Louis’ arms tightened so much it should’ve hurt. But no pain was comparable.

His knees hit the stoney ground, hands fallen at his sides. There was nothing but Harry’s lifeless body before him, a white noise in his ears and the grave emptiness as he watched the paramedics stand up and assemble a stretcher. 

 

*

 

_Finally coming through, finally given a chance to love, to flourish. All taken away in a moment of hate._

_A life brought to an end or fate interrupted?_

_Harry Styles, Son of Doctor, product of a killer, dead at age 24._

 

That’s what some of the headlines read. All serving up their best attempts at condolences; sensitive words that tried to weave some sense of the suffering that Harry had called his life into the articles. Louis hated them all. Especially the ones which made Harry to be an equal sinner to his Father and that his _unfortunate_ decease could maybe bring some closure to the family of his victims.

Two wrongs never make a right.

Bitter, wounded people, the half of the public that were unforgiving towards it all, have said to Louis how his relationship with him had been a rude awakening. They’d known each other for just over a year but the circumstances in which brought them together were rare, so wild, so surreal you couldn’t make it up. But they’d felt a love so great, so strong in such a short space of time that the loss he felt was too real, too deep for it to have been anything less than genuine.

He was lost.

The funeral starts as good as one could expect. 

After the announcement of his death went public, it was decided the service was to take place as soon as possible. Des was informed, but with strict terms of detention he was denied consent to attend. 

Harry was to be buried. Laid with his Sister and Mother to rest. 

The expenses were covered by Harry's astonishing inheritance, which he assigned in his will, to Louis. Altering the legal document at the last minute, almost as if he knew his end was near, sat in his study late that Friday night before his fatality.

The service would be a small one; Harry had no family or even friends to attend apart from Louis and Niall. But of course Zayn, Craig and Annabelle came to pay their respects. Upon arrival though, Louis thought they’d pulled up at the wrong place. They must’ve got the wrong time or wrong venue or something. 

“Niall…” 

Niall had seen it too and was just as non the wiser. The snow settled thick on the ground, the cold December bite was surrounding them yet it was beautiful and there was probably no less suitable occasion.

Stood outside, all enrobing black attire, was a crowd of what must’ve been closing in on at least one hundred people. 

“Niall, are we- _oh God_ , what’s happening why can’t they just leave us alone?”

After a small squeeze to Louis’ now quite clammy hands, Niall unbuckled his belt and didn’t wait for the door to be opened for him, stepping out of the black vehicle to address a couple of stragglers.

Louis quickly followed. There was an overbearing sadness in his chest, clutching at his heart and making his own existence difficult enough that he didn’t need the added drawback of spiteful individuals making this day more painful.

“Hey, excuse me Miss…?” Niall brushed his fingers on an elderly woman’s elbow, to which she turned around and instantly smiled, “Oh, Mrs Sutton, I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you from inside the car.” 

“Niall, darling.” Pamela pressed a polite kiss to both cheeks, “Bit of a shock isn’t it?”

He frowned, not quite following. 

“The turn out,” She beckoned to the mass behind them, “all these people here to pay their respects.”

Louis just caught the tail end of the sentence and stopped, pulling his coat up to his neck from the bitter cold. He turned around to look at the gathered, running his eyes over faces he didn’t recognise.

Half the town, a few from the city had come to attend and it was quite unbelievable. Louis gets told by countless number of people the same things, how his and Harry’s story had touched the hearts of many and Louis didn’t care to hold back the tears anymore. He had no one else to be strong for now. He was the remainder of the chaotic duo and there was no point, no one to put up a solid front for anymore.

The vicar made his speech and Louis hardly listened. He sat numb, frozen at the front, dried tears pulling his cheeks tight as his gaze never left the casket laid high up ahead.

 _Don’t cry Louis_.

He shut his eyes. _Squeezed_ them at the thought. Every thought he had was in Harry’s voice now.

It was when Niall nudged gently from the side that he realised everyone was waiting for him and the Vicar had stepped down after making way.

Louis cleared his throat, buttoning his dark suit as he took slow steps to the altar. He didn’t think he was walking that slow, but it felt like it took longer than it should’ve to reach the top. 

He peered out at the sea of black, all the mostly unfamiliar faces looking back at him. He looked to his feet, closed his eyes again, saw Harry’s face.

“I don’t want to make a big speech, because I know he would hate that. He wouldn’t want any fuss, in fact I can guarantee that if he were here now and this was someone else’s funeral he’d be sighing resentfully at me if I so much as touched on how much they meant to me. He was poetic at the best of times but didn’t enjoy overkill so no, I’m not going to do that, he knew, he knows and really that’s all that matters. Although the conditions in which we met were unfortunate I hold no regrets over any of it. I got to know the most amazing, infuriatingly wonderful man that I’ll probably ever have the honour of knowing again. Our relationship wasn’t the easiest, I won’t place it into any category because it doesn’t belong there, it wasn’t conventional and it definitely wasn’t vindicated. We’ll be at the disapproval of many, the pity of more and the scepticism of most.” Louis looked down, for a second he regretted not making notes, this was never going to be easy. But with a glance at the coffin behind him he suddenly found all the words he needed. “But it was ours. Whatever it was, with the little time we had together it was ours and it was perfect.” 

The tightening in his throat told him it was time. Wrap it up. But Louis didn’t care for the audience anymore; much alike the past nine months of his life the only thing that ever really came into focus was Harry. He had his back turned to the crowd, a couple of slow steps towards the sleek black coffin. He placed the tips of shaking fingers on the smooth surface and felt a wave of instant calm. All he ever needed was to be close to him.

“Do you remember when I asked you what you would wish for, if you knew it would come true?” He pressed his lips together, closed his eyes slowly feeling a single tear fall from his lashes, a secret held between them forever, “You found it so impossible to live with pain, the guilt, I loved you so much but doubted even I would ever be able to save you. Well I guess you finally got your wish Harold… _you’re free_.”


End file.
